


Late Autumn's Heat

by Smootsmoot44



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4423109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smootsmoot44/pseuds/Smootsmoot44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My idea of the only organic way Amorra would occur whilst remaining true to the characters. Korra goes into heat while imprisoned in an Equalist base, and Amon overestimates his powers of self-control. The inevitable ensues. Omegaverse AU, and AU where the Equalists remember enough high school level physics to capture the Avatar.<br/>Ironically, I only made this an omegaverse story to make these two getting together more believable. That being said, I try and keep the omegaverse-specific kinks to a minimum...when possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a writer and fan of Legend of Korra, I always promised myself three things.
> 
> One: never, ever, EVER write fanfiction.
> 
> Two: NEVER, EVER, EVER write Amorra.
> 
> Three: NEVER! WRITE! OMEGAVERSE!
> 
> So of course, I caved and decided to indulge all three at once.
> 
> I’m really surprised I cranked this out before I caved into writing Korrasami smut.
> 
> Needless to say, you better enjoy this, you perverts…
> 
> ~ If you are not familiar with omegaverse, check out this link: http://theomegaverse.tumblr.com/Rundown ~

Korra’s nightmare was dissolved away by flames before the heat forced her to wake up. A quick glance at the platinum walls encasing her reminded her of where she was—still trapped in the metal box, but this time in the basement of an Equalist hideout. Korra reflexively bent a flame in her hand before she allowed herself to sigh in relief, slumping back against the metal. As long as she had her bending, there was still a way out of this.

It had been at least a few hours since she had been transported to this base, and at least 24 hours since she had left this box. Korra was surprised when Amon had shown up, but she had been hoping for a chance of escape. Instead, they merely carted the box out of the cabin and put her in the back of the truck. Things would have been so much easier if they’d had the guts to open the damn box and fight her. They had to open it at some point—hopefully before the rally.

The air in the confined space was unbearably hot. Korra sucked a deep breath and wiped the sweat off her brow before noticing that she was burning up, already sweating through the rest of her clothes.

 _Damn it_ , she thought bitterly, gritting her teeth and trying to fan herself. _So much for making my clothes last in this place. What I’d give to be an airbender…_

Korra kicked off her boots and untied the pelt from around her waist, shoving them to the other side of the box gracelessly. She was just about to tighten her wolftails to get the hair off her neck when her muscles began to tense involuntarily. Korra stopped and frowned, feeling as her fingers twitched and the tension raced down to her gut and spun into an irresistible coil, just like it always did right before…

Korra slammed a fist against the box and groaned as she realized what was going on. Her heat was starting. She was being held captive in an Equalist base, and her heat was starting now, of all times. It was over two months early. She hadn’t had access to her masking perfume in over two days, so the entire base would be able to smell her soon.

 _I only have three days before they take my bending at the rally,_ she realized. _How am I supposed to make an escape when I’m in heat?_

Her escape plans definitely worked better without her heat, but maybe she still had a chance. When the Equalists noticed she was in heat—which they inevitably would—they’d be much more likely to underestimate her. An omega in heat can be vulnerable, but not Korra—she could take them all by surprise if she stayed in control. And that depended on how the Equalists reacted.

 _Okay Korra,_ she told herself. _You have three possibilities here. One, they ignore you. Two, they toss in some suppressants. Three, an alpha gets in and…_

A spike of fear and arousal rushed through her at the same time as she considered the last option. There was no way she would let an Equalist help her through this. Then again, the throbbing between her legs said otherwise…

Korra crossed her legs and grit her teeth in an effort to focus. She only had about a minute of sanity left—this was going to be a particularly bad heat.

 _There’s no way they’ll actually let an alpha in here,_ she assured herself. _I’m the Avatar, they all hate me too much to try and mate with me…right?_

_Then again…what happens if they try?_

A dam broke in her mind and released a wave of repressed thoughts—suddenly she was imagining alphas clamoring outside her box, fighting to get to her and win her favor, and she thought of the strongest alpha chasing them away, and then tilting his mask up and—

Korra jerked out of her thoughts to find herself breathing raggedly and her hand halfway past her waistband. She whimpered softly before yanking her hands back and baring her teeth. No. If an alpha came in here—especially _him_ —she was going to fight. She immediately undid the knot on her drawstrings and retied it tighter with the most complicated knot she knew. When she was satisfied with it, she drew herself into the lotus position and attempted to meditate.

_Breathe. Focus. It’s only hormones. Breathe in…focus…_

She lasted less than a minute. Before long she was curled against herself on the floor, desperately fighting to ignore the dampness between her thighs, the fire pooling through her limbs. All she could do now was pray to the spirits that she was given suppressants instead of a rutting alpha.

 _They don’t know I’m an omega,_ she realized in her daze. _What are they going to think?_

* * *

“What the fuck is that smell?”

Amon and the Lieutenant were supervising the training camp when they first smelled it. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, but before long it was getting hard to ignore.

The Lieutenant was the first one to speak up, just loud enough for Amon to hear him. Amon sighed deeply, being sure to breathe through his mouth so the scent wouldn’t distract him even more.

“It smells like it’s coming from the next station over,” Amon murmured back. “And hopefully, whoever it is will take care of it soon.” He practically bit the last few words out. He was about ready to plug up the nose holes on his mask—either that, or he would give in and try and track down the scent.

“Whoever it is has it bad,” the Lieutenant said. “Might as well send them home and put them out of their misery.”

A few moments later, one of the omega guards that was posted in the prison ran up to them.

“Sir,” she said, bowing quickly. “It seems that the Avatar has just gone into heat.”

Amon was thankful that his mask hid his surprise. His face was burning up behind his mask, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was aroused, or because he was embarrassed that he was attracted to this scent to begin with.

“That can’t be right,” the Lieutenant said. “Isn’t she an alpha?”

“I think you’re mistaken,” Amon said. “The Avatar is a beta. I assumed she was an alpha as well, but I’ve never detected any pheromones from her.”

“Then she must have a scent masking perfume,” the guard said. “Last time I checked, you didn’t post fifteen alphas outside of her cell.”

If Amon hadn’t been wearing his mask, he would have been rubbing his temples by now.

“This can’t be right,” the Lieutenant scoffed. “She’s been sitting in her own piss for over a day—she’s not allowed to smell good!”

“Never mind that,” Amon disregarded. “Somebody needs to deliver her suppressants immediately. We can combine that with some scent masking perfume to get her through Thursday’s rally. After that, she’s none of our concern.”

“I can get some suppressants from the storage room and deliver them,” the guard began, but Amon cut her off.

“No,” he said. “I’ll do it. We can’t risk her trying to escape. I’m the only one who stands a chance against her if she tries anything.”

The Lieutenant and the guard stared at him uncertainly.

“That’s a bad idea if I ever heard one,” the Lieutenant muttered. “You realize anybody else can do this, right? Somebody who’s not biologically programmed to mate with our greatest enemy? They can just use a glove and electrocute the box to knock her out—”

“We discussed this Lieutenant, that won’t work,” Amon sighed. “She’s sitting in a Faraday cage. Everything inside is impervious to electrical shocks. I’m really the only one qualified for this.”

~~“Sir, Michael Faraday did not exist in this universe, how could you possibly know that”~~

“Are you sure, sir?” the guard asked. “Forgive me, but you wouldn’t be the first alpha with this idea—”

“I have no ulterior motives,” Amon growled. “She is a bender, and the enemy. No biological urge would be enough for me to act against my beliefs. The keys?”

The guard looked at the Lieutenant worriedly before relenting, fishing into her pocket and handing Amon the ring of keys to the prison cells. Amon gave her a terse nod, and with that, left for the storage rooms.

* * *

Amon immediately regretted his decision as soon as he rounded the corner with the Avatar’s cell.

At least twenty chi blockers—all alphas—were standing guard outside the cell. They were all pretending to be doing their job, but it was obvious from the scent clogging the hallway that they weren’t focused at all on the task at hand. The smell made Amon’s head spin for a moment—he stopped walking and closed his eyes to wait for it to clear from his nostrils. It never did. Even when he tried to hold his breath, his lungs quickly expanded for another breath, as if a part of him was keen on being tortured by the sweet air saturating the hall.

Never was Amon more thankful for the flap of cloth covering the front of his trousers.

 _This is simple,_ he told himself as he approached the crowd of chi blockers. _Enter the cell. Open the box. Hand the Avatar the suppressants. Leave. Nothing else. Nothing. Else._

The other alphas parted as soon as Amon began to press through the crowd. As tense as the unspoken competition between them, the chi blockers knew their place. By the time Amon reached the door, half of them had already dispersed, and the rest were stalking away. Amon put the key in the lock and braced himself.

Nothing could have prepared him for what happened when he opened the door.

A wave of pheromones blasted into him, constricting his lungs, wrapping around him and ensnaring him with arousal. A yelp rung from the box, and he could hear the Avatar fumbling with something and scrambling to her feet. Amon shook his head to try and clear the haze from his mind, but it was useless.

_Open the box. Hand over the suppressants. Leave. Leave, quickly._

Amon turned around and locked the door behind him—he wasn’t sure if he was motivated by security or ulterior motives. He slid the keys next to the suppressants in his pocket, then shifted his hand to grip the cardboard box of pills.

_Hand them over. Leave. It will take seconds. The sooner the better._

Amon made his way toward the box one hesitant step at a time, his footfalls echoing in the near-empty room. At last he stood before the box, and he paused. Amon was typically able to restrain himself from the worst of omega’s pheromones. But this was something else entirely. His barest instincts had fallen for the Avatar’s scent. Would he be strong enough to restrain himself if he laid eyes on her?

Amon swallowed thickly and forced himself to pull the door open. It was like having a match tossed on him, the spark that set his body on fire. The Avatar stood, supporting herself shakily on a wall with one arm, with most of her garments scattered around her. All she had left were her bindings and her trousers, which hung loosely around her hips. The drawstrings looked like they had been burnt through. The Avatar’s eyes were wide as she watched him, pupils dilated, and her breath came shakily through parted lips. Every inch of her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and it was hard to ignore the slick gloss coating her fingers. Amon could barely fight back a groan.

 _Hand. Over. The Pills._ Amon’s hand had gone limp around the suppressants. He was paralyzed, torn between the urge to fight and the urge to give into his instincts.

He felt her chi surging before she moved—Amon leaned out of the way of her arc of fire just in time. The two of them froze again; Korra in a firebending stance with her fist still extended, chest rising as she panted lightly, and Amon still leaning to the side. His hand was still in his pocket, hovering over the suppressants. All he had to do now was tighten his grip. Remove his hand. Extend his arm. Then he could leave. Did he even want to leave?

The Avatar seemed just as torn as him. Her eyes were darting around the room: to the cement under his feet, to the door, to the cot in the corner of the cell and to the increasingly obvious bulge at his groin. When she finally met his eyes, the fear that he had grown accustomed to seeing had been dimmed by exhaustion and lust.

Amon stepped forward, and Korra reacted with a feeble punch. Amon caught her wrist before the fire could extend to his mask. She didn’t bother trying to pull away. Amon was so entranced with the electrifying heat of her skin that he didn’t even notice that his hand had left the pills in his pocket. Amon’s eyes fell on the gloss still coating her fingers; Korra’s cheeks darkened in embarrassment, but Amon was too captivated to notice. He entwined their hands together and felt the slickness on her fingers, and he closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His other hand reached out and cupped her jaw before trailing down her shoulder. Korra’s eyes closed, and a soft whine escaped her lips.

When they opened their eyes again, it was like they didn’t even recognize each other.

He can’t remember who rushed forward first, only that the next thing he knew, they were tangled together and stumbling against the back wall of the room. They fought for the upper hand briefly, but it ended quickly with Amon pinning her to the wall, his hands around her bare waist. Amon buried the nose of his mask into her neck and breathed deeply—he hardly cared about what happened just as long as he stayed wrapped in that scent.

A small part of his brain resurfaced as Korra pushed back his hood, and he stopped breathing when she started fumbling with the ties of his mask. It was then that he remembered who this was: his sworn enemy, the Avatar, the corrupt figurehead that served as an idol to benders. She was all of that and more, and worse, all that and less—just a seventeen-year-old girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Amon was about to pull away when Korra slid off his mask and pushed her lips against his feverishly. Amon’s tension instantly melted away as he drowned in her scent again, and he deepened the kiss hungrily. Her eyes were closed, ignoring the scars painted on his face. Instead, her hands explored his shoulders and back through the fabric of his coat. She reached the dip in his spine, and Amon hummed and pressed his hips against hers. Korra gasped as his hardness ground against her core, and as he did it again, her head fell back against the wall, her mouth hanging open in a silent moan. As soon as her neck was exposed, Amon dipped down and nipped into her pulse, leaving trails of bite marks across the sensitive flesh and running his tongue across them. Korra squirmed beneath him, fingers digging into his back to egg him on.

His fingers trembled as he undid the knot on her bindings. They fell around her hips, and he pushed them down to the floor along with her trousers. Amon forgot how to breathe for a moment. She was not the Avatar, she was not Korra. She was the most beautiful omega he had ever seen. Her abdomen was just as toned as her arms and shoulders, hardened from a life of training. She didn’t look like she could fracture beneath his fingertips, like most omegas. Yet somehow her body was soft, the swell of her breasts and the dip between her thighs just as gentle as any woman. It was as if her body had been worn down to perfection like a stone in the ocean waves. _Smoothed by the elements,_ he thought vaguely, before the hands tugging at his tunic muted the voices in his mind. Korra yanked him forward and locked her lips with his again, and Amon closed his eyes and began to knead her breasts.

Amon found his lips wandering down again, leaving a trail of damp kisses and soft nips down her neck, collarbone, and chest. Korra melted in his grip as he lingered over her nipples, flicking over each one with his tongue in a way that drew harsh whines from her throat.

A sharp gasp and a jerk of her hips reminded him of his goal, so he left her breasts and dropped to his knees. He kissed down her toned abdomen before reaching the thatch of hair on her mound, and he groaned deeply. He rested his head against her pelvis and took a few moments to breathe in her scent. It was like the scent replaced everything in his mind, all his drives and aspirations were buried at her core. He was straining against his pants more than ever before, and his head was spinning.

Amon barely brushed his tongue against her folds when Korra shook under him. Her hands twisted in his hair, and Amon hummed and drove his tongue deeper. It took him a moment to realize that Korra was trying to get him to stand up.

Amon rose to his feet, and she instantly began fumbling with the buttons on his chest. He pushed her hands away, instead pulling the coat over his shoulders. He cast it to the floor, and the keys jingled piercingly at the impact. Both of them flinched at the sound.

Korra blinked, and doubt resurfaced in her eyes for a split second as she glanced at the coat. Through his haze, Amon felt a panic well up inside him.

 _No,_ he thought firmly. _Let me have this._ He pressed her back to the wall and teased her earlobe between his teeth, making her shiver. Before long it was as if nothing happened; they were back to peeling his undershirt off, and then kicking off his boots and unclasping his belt, until they were finally pushing his pants to the floor. They crashed together, skin against skin, lips colliding and teeth clanging as they ground their hips together.

Korra paused, grabbing his shoulders and grunting. At first Amon thought she was pushing him away, but after following her gaze to the cot in the corner of the room, he understood what she wanted. Amon growled and hoisted her up, staggering over to the cot until the two of them tumbled onto it. The cot couldn’t have been too comfortable, but from the look of pure ecstasy on Korra’s face, Amon figured she didn’t care. He was grinding his hardness against her slick folds—she bit her lower lip and dragged her nails against the taut muscles of his lower back, desperate to pull him closer.

“Please,” she breathed. “I…need…”

Amon didn’t need to hear any more. He lined up his member and sank into her, growling lowly as they connected at last. Korra cried out in bliss, and the mere sound—the heat of her walls, slick, wet, clenching around him—was enough to disjoint his sanity. She wriggled underneath him, frantic for some movement, and he snapped.

Amon snarled and bit into her collarbone, causing her to gasp and freeze beneath him. He snatched her wrists and pinned them down above her head. She quivered beneath him, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, but aside from that she was still. He growled in warning, and Korra whimpered in response.

Satisfied that she had surrendered, Amon unlatched his teeth and rolled his hips into hers. The friction made him see stars, and Korra moaned loudly before he silenced her with his lips. He picked up a relentless pace, and immediately knew he wasn’t going to last long.

Amon remembered a few things through the haze of his passion. This was the Avatar, a girl less than half his age. Before the thought was enough to make him pull away, but now it fueled the fire burning in him. The alpha in him was reveling at the catch he had made, swelling in pride that he was strong enough to make even the Avatar, the most powerful of omegas, surrender. This wasn’t about her scent anymore. This was about domination. This was his victory.

Korra’s hips rose to meet his more and more erratically, and she began breathing in strangled hitches. Amon tightened his grip around her wrists and began thrusting faster. He could feel himself roaring towards a precipice he couldn’t escape. He buried his nose in her neck one last time, letting himself go.

“Mine,” he grunted. He dug his teeth into the side of her neck, harder than before. He repeated the word to himself like a mantra, hardly noticing when a faint taste of blood began to mix with the salt of her sweat. _Mine, mine, mine…_

Korra’s hips bucked against his, and she let out a disjointed cry. Her walls spasmed and clenched around him, and Amon groaned, pounding into her until his own orgasm seared through him. One last shred of sanity warned him not to knot her. Thankfully, he was able to use the last of his energy to hold himself back.

At last, the two collapsed against each other. Amon’s mind was blank, too numb from the post-orgasmic bliss buzzing through his body. He was content with lying on top of the omega as sleep began to overtake him. He was sure that they would have drifted off together if a harsh gasp didn’t rouse him.

Amon lifted his head and was immediately locked into her intense, cyan gaze. Korra’s eyes were filled with horror and panic, a mirror image of the night he ambushed her on Avatar Aang Memorial Island. A pang of guilt seared through him on its own accord.

“You…” she breathed, “How dare you—”

She began to move, but Amon reacted faster—he jabbed the pressure point between her neck and shoulder. Korra’s eyes rolled back before she collapsed back onto the cot, unconscious. Amon sat up and moved away, burying his face in his hands so he wouldn’t have to look at her. This was a mistake. This was beyond a mistake. No alpha should ever been allowed in this room, not even him.

A few moments later he was brave enough to drop his hands and look at her. He wasn’t sure if she was the picture of peace or death. Her hair clung damply around her face, and her lips were slightly swollen. There were smudges of his makeup all over the lower side of her face. And of course, it was impossible to ignore the distinct mating mark on the side of her neck. Amon hissed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

He finally forced himself to his feet and stepped over to where his clothes had been discarded. He picked his mask up and tied it back to his face—the light provided by the single bulb above the metal box was dim, but he knew the risks of having it off in front of the Avatar, especially with his makeup smudged.

Amon went back to the cot next. After a moment of hesitation, he lifted the girl into his arms and carried her back to the box. He laid her down as gently as possible—so she wouldn’t wake up and attack, of course—yet he found himself gazing at her softly as he tried to step away. He scowled and tore himself away. He picked up her trousers and bindings, then fished the suppressants out of his pocket, before tossing all three into the box unceremoniously. With that, he slammed the door shut and leaned against it in relief.

 _Three more days,_ he told himself. _I cleanse her at the rally, then she’s no longer my concern. Three days._

Amon took a minute to redress himself, his hands putting everything into place numbly, mechanically. He left the cell as he pulled his hood over his head, and tried to fight back the urge to look at the box one last time, as well as fight back the nagging remorse weighing him down.

He could still smell her on his clothes when he stepped out of the cell. Amon grimaced; he needed a shower and a change of uniform, quickly. He was about to leave when he noticed the omega guard from before standing next to the cell.

“Everything alright, sir?” she asked. He could hear from the hesitation in her words that she knew more than she wanted to. He’d have to have a word with her later.

In the meantime, Amon was at a loss for words. He stared back at her for a moment, emotionless with the protection of the mask, before turning on his heel and leaving. The guard stared after him before pushing her questions away. Now alone in the hall, she stepped back to her post in front of the door.

It was all the omega could do to ignore the muffled sobs echoing faintly from inside the cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the Lieutenant’s OOC sass, I needed an outlet for my commentary 
> 
> If you happened to like this monstrosity, please message me and be my friend, because I have NO FRIENDS THAT I WOULD TELL ABOUT THIS AND NEED A FACE TO SCREAM INTO??
> 
> Also does anyone agree with me that Tarrlok’s box qualified as a Faraday cage? I know it’s up for debate because of the space between the bars at the top of the cell, but she shouldn’t have had to hang from the bars to avoid an electric shock!


	2. Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I caved. I’m writing out the sequels. I just can’t leave these poor characters hanging. There’s probably not going to be any more smut; I’m just doing justice to this storyline. Besides, these two need to go sit in a corner and think about what they’ve done. 
> 
> Today on Omegaverse Trash: Korra has a great day at Amon’s expense. Well, almost. 
> 
> And before you ask: yes. This is where I gave up on being serious. You can imagine overblown FMA animation for some of these scenes. 
> 
> I really wish I could add the other characters, but if things keep going the way I’m writing them, everybody’s probably going to show up ten minutes late with Starbucks. Oh well. Maybe we’ll get to see Korra be glorious and save herself? ;)

Twenty-four hours later, with two days left until the rally, Amon smells her again.

It happens an hour before noon, right in the middle of a meeting with Hiroshi Sato and his airship pilots. Everything was in place for the invasion of the city, and if everything went according to plan, Republic City would be his by nightfall.

Everything, that is, except for the fact that the Avatar’s scent was clogging up the hideout again.

“And from there, we head southwest over downtown, then cut across the bay to…to…”

Amon completely forgot what he was saying as his instincts comprehended the last breath he took. It was back. Her damned scent was leaking from out of her cell again, even after he gave her a week’s worth of suppressants. He blanched beneath his mask, and he could feel sweat prickling at the back of his neck already.

Hiroshi Sato frowned and sniffed the air. “Do I recognize—”

“ _No,_ ” Amon blurted. Hiroshi and his pilots were staring at him suspiciously—he needed a cover story, quickly. “No, no, it must be Meng. She’s been having, ah, problems this week with…that. I should go see if she’s alright.”

Amon shoved his chair back and stood up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“He means a half-hour,” the Lieutenant muttered, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“Lieutenant!” Amon hissed.

Amon walked briskly for the door, hoping to be left alone, but the Lieutenant excused himself and followed him out. Amon heard several of the pilots whispering amongst themselves and asking who Meng was before he slammed the door behind himself. With that, he began to hurry to the storage room, while trying to ignore the fact that the Lieutenant was following him.

“Why are you putting yourself through this again?” the Lieutenant sighed.

“For the last time, Lieutenant, I am doing this because I am the only one qualified to do so. She’s the Avatar. If anyone else were to confront her it would end in disaster.”

“Right. Says you.”

Amon’s eyes flashed behind his mask. “Is that a challenge, Lieutenant?”

“Calm down, I’m not jealous.”

“I never said—”

“—I’m just worried about your reputation. Right now the only ones who know are me and Cheryl, but if this goes on, there’s no guarantee we can contain the situation.”

“…Cheryl?”

“The omega posted outside the Avatar’s cell.”

“I see.” Amon hadn’t forgotten about her. He still needed to have a word with her, but he kept putting it off. He labeled it as being busy preparing for the invasion, but he knew he was just avoiding the issue.

Amon and the Lieutenant didn’t speak for the rest of the trip to the storage room. When they finally arrived, Amon made a beeline for the medical supplies and started to rummage around for the suppressants.

“You know,” the Lieutenant said carefully, “This would be much easier on you if you just sent a squad of omegas to chuck in the pills. Hell, you can wait outside if you want. Or even better, leave it to the pros and stay on schedule for the invasion. Just please, don’t be an idiot and walk in on the Avatar’s heat. Again.”

The last word made Amon snapped—his hands clenched around the bottle of suppressants he was looking for. He whirled on the Lieutenant as he shoved the pills into his pocket.

“Today will _not_ be like yesterday!” Amon seethed. “I admit I made a mistake, but today—today is—” his eyes fell on the stash of bandages, and he plunged his hand in the bag and fumbled around until he found a handful of cotton balls. He picked two of them out and glared at the Lieutenant fiercely as he shoved them up the nostrils of his mask. “—Today ith…”

Amon knew the Lieutenant well enough to know when he was torn, and it was clear that he was now torn between concern, professionalism, and bursting out laughing. He was wasting his time here. Amon spun on his heel and marched out of the storage room before the Lieutenant could hold him back any longer.

* * *

 

The cotton balls were nearly flawless—even as he was walking down the hall with the Avatar’s cell, Amon couldn’t smell a thing.

Surprisingly, the hallway was clear except for the omega he had posted outside the cell. At first Amon was relieved for the emptiness, but it quickly turned into dread. Where were the Alphas? Just yesterday there was an entire crown pining outside of the cell.

 _They know,_ he thought. He stopped walking and wondered if he should leave before he made things worse. _Word’s going to get out before the rally, my reputation is ruined—_

The omega outside the Avatar’s cell spotted him—he saw her eyes widen behind her goggles before she stood to attention.

“Amon, sir,” she greeted, saluting. “I’ll, uh, I’ll…just be going now.”

She hung the keys on the cell’s doorknob and began to walk away, and Amon couldn’t help but feel himself panic for a moment. She knew—those alphas knew—the last thing he needed was for her to jump to conclusions about the nature of today’s visit and let more rumors get loose.

“Wait.”

The omega stopped and watched him expectantly.

“About yesterday’s…incident…”

Amon tried to remember what he had composed in his head. This was all an accident. This was not a part of the plan. Proceed as if nothing ever occurred and say nothing—yet try as he might, Amon was at a loss for words. Finally, he just sighed and shook his head.

“How many of us know?” he asked.

The guard rubbed the back of her neck anxiously. “Oh, not that many. All of the prison guards. Maybe more?”

Amon forgot how to breathe. “ _What?_ ”

“You uh, you marked your scent in her cell quite effectively, sir. It only started to fade away last night.”

Amon groaned and rubbed his temples through the fabric of his hood. There was going to be a lot more damage control than he had originally anticipated.

“I’ll…only be a few seconds this time,” he muttered.

The omega nodded and began to back away again. “Of course, sir. I’ll keep the hallway clear for you.”

He glared and raised a finger to correct her, but her back was already turned as she hurried out of the hall. There was nothing left to do but swear under his breath as he unlocked the Avatar’s cell and stepped inside. _One problem at a time,_ he told himself. Right now, dealing with the Avatar was his primary concern.

Amon could taste the pheromones on his tongue when he drew in a breath, and his heart nearly missed a beat when he looked at the box. There was no noise coming from inside this time. He was torn between suspicion and worry as he locked the cell door behind himself.

 _Why isn’t she moving?_ he wondered. He suddenly remembered the look on her face the day before—the hurt and horror in her eyes, as if she had been betrayed—he pushed the thought away and steeled himself. It was not his place to be concerned for her. He convinced himself that it was simply the pheromones talking, and he pushed the cotton balls further up his nose and swallowed thickly as he approached the box.

 _Toss them in quickly. Don’t make eye-contact._ Amon pulled the pills out of his pocket and held them up in preparation to throw them. He put his other hand around the latch and exhaled.

_Just toss them in. You won’t even have to see her. Get it over with. Three…two…one…_

Amon began to turn the latch. He didn’t even have the chance to pull the door open before it exploded open on its own.

An enormous wave of fire erupted from the box, sending Amon staggering back from the heat. The pills fell from his hand and clattered to the floor. Before he could recollect himself, Korra barreled into him headfirst and slammed him against the nearest wall. Amon finally had the sense to react, but when he tried to push her off of him, he found his hands and feet were stuck to the wall, earthbent in place with small tents of cement.

If that wasn’t enough to make him panic, the look on the Avatar’s face definitely did it. She was the picture of rage; her teeth bared, nostrils flared, and eyes flashing. And she was most definitely not riddled by heat this time.

“Thought you’d come back for seconds, huh?” she said lowly. “Bet you forgot that I had enough suppressants to last me a week.”

Amon scowled and tried to twist out of his restraints, but Korra pinned him against the wall and held a fire dagger to his neck. If he weren’t panicking, this might’ve actually turned him...on. Oh no.

Amon began to panic more.

“Dambit, that’s the last thing I want to do!” Amon snapped. “There’s a bottle of pills right there and—look at me, I eben plugged my nose!”

Korra noticed the cotton balls stuck up his mask and rolled her eyes, dissipating the flame and yanking the wads out of his nose. Amon sucked in a breath through his free nostrils and realized that the scent in the room was already fading. If he had to guess, she waited for her heat to become noticeable to catch his attention, and then quenched it with a dose of suppressants right before he arrived.

“Really?” she asked. “You didn’t come back for…”

“No!” he burst. “Yesterday was a mistake on multiple levels, do you really think I’d let it happen again?”

Korra raised an eyebrow. “Really now? That’s not what I heard yesterday. What’s to say if I took advantage of you right now, you wouldn’t just roll along with it?”

Amon was speechless for a moment. This entire situation made him far more aroused than he would like to admit, and he needed to regain control of things, fast.

“…Is that an invitation?” Amon asked.

He was intending to call out her bluff, but he quickly realized his mistake. He received a harsh glare and a jab to the throat. Amon gagged and gasped for air as Korra balled her fist in the front of his coat.

“Not my point!” she seethed. “You’re a piece of shit for taking advantage of me yesterday!”

“You were in heat!”

“Exactly! What were you doing in here?”

“Delivering those damn pills you aren’t taking!”

“Oh, so now you’re a saint for not being as big of a jerk as you were yesterday?”

“I was only coming to give you the suppressants, damn it! They were right in my hand before you jumped all over me!”

“ _I_ jumped all over _you?_ You’re the one that walked in on my heat!”

“Enough!” he blurted. “Do you need more suppressants or are you just wasting my time?”

Korra blinked once, and her gaze of steel softened to one of seriousness.

“I need food. I haven’t eaten in three days. I can hardly keep the suppressants down anymore.”

Amon narrowed his eyes. “Food would only lend you strength. You’re an easier opponent in your current state.”

The return of her furious glare—not to mention the fact that he was still glued to the wall—was enough to remind him that she was powerful enough as is.

“So that’s a no?” she asked in disbelief.

“You’ll find no sympathy from me, Avatar.”

The wounded look on her face made it seem like she had been expecting the handout, or at the very least some admission of compassion. Korra scowled and shook her head.

“Fine! Then water. I can’t last much longer without it.”

Amon scoffed. “Do you think I’m a fool? I will not provide any bending materials that would aid in your escape.”

Korra jerked back on his coat before shoving him into the wall much harder than before. His vision flashed white as his head connected with the concrete, and he groaned.

“No bending materials, huh?” Korra said. He noticed for the first time that her eyes, still wide with blind rage, weren’t quite focused on his. “Listen here—I have been sitting in that hellhole of a box for _two days_ with both fire and water, and neither have been able to make a dent in that platinum. Yeah, water! You ever been desperate enough to make an ice blade out of your own sweat, piss and tears? I’d be using it to castrate you if it hadn’t evaporated. I can barely feel my tongue it’s gotten so dry, and I can’t remember the last time I peed. If I don’t get water soon, I’m not going to make it to your precious rally in two days, do you hear me?”

Amon swallowed thickly. This girl was unstable when she was angry, not to mention that she was already delirious. He was starting to understand why Tarrlok became desperate enough to bloodbend her. He would have to keep the situation under control so it didn’t come to that…

“It’s not that simple,” he said carefully. “I can’t just bring you water and not expect you to esca—”

Korra cut him off with a brutal punch to the gut. Amon wheezed and doubled over as much as his restraints let him.

“Escape?” she offered. “Yeah. I should have done that when you got here.”

She patted down his coat until she found the keys, and she pulled them out triumphantly. Amon’s heart began to speed up as he panicked. So much for control.

“And to think you used to scare me,” she remarked. “Good thing I got to know you well enough to call your bluffs.”

She punched him in the throat again for good measure—Amon choked and struggled to gag down a gulp of air. Amon began to panic as she strode over to the door victoriously. The guard had left the hallway and had promised to keep it clear for him. Amon stomached through his pain and fought to wriggle out of his restraints, but to no avail. The Avatar wasn’t even chi-blocked—who was going to stop her?

Korra was just putting the key in the lock when he gave in and reached out with his mind.

A tense moment of silence passed as Amon focused his grip to freeze her in place. Right away he could feel her heartbeat, the patterns of her veins. He could feel her struggle against his control, feel her heart hammering as she panicked. It took less than a second before he won out and forced her to flex her trembling hand, sending the keys clattering to the floor. Korra’s eyes, wide with fright, flicked over to him.

“Y-you…too?” she gasped, struggling to speak through the force of his grip.

Amon didn’t answer, merely dragging her away from the door. Her face twitched in pain as he pulled her back.

“It was you!” she said. “He was warning me about _you_ …both of you!”

Amon frowned. “Who?”

“Aang! He told me about Yakone, bloodbending without the full moon, psychic bloodbending—you’re a fake—you’re a bender and that’s probably just the beginning of the lies, isn’t it? I can tell everyone—”

Amon silenced her by twisting her shoulders back. Korra winced and screwed her eyes shut.

“The only thing you’re going to be doing is releasing me,” Amon growled.

Korra opened one eye and glared at him with it. “I knew that wasn’t a real scar, it was smudging all over my face yesterday—”

That did it. Amon crushed down on his grip. Korra rose into the air, her limbs twisting against themselves at unnatural angles. The crackle of sinew popping over bone filled the air, and her eyes bulged in pain. From there he squeezed, constricting her blood vessels until she screamed.

“Stop it…stop it, please!” she rasped.

Amon blinked and dropped her back to the floor, where she landed on her hands and knees, shaking uncontrollably. Amon felt a sharp twinge of guilt and looked away from her uncomfortably.

“Release me,” he muttered. Korra didn’t respond, but after a moment she thrust out a fist, and the cement crumbled away from his hands and feet. He stepped away from the wall in relief, and looked down at her again. She had one hand hugging herself while the other held her up. Amon walked over and stood over her, but she didn’t lift her head.

Amon let out a deep sigh before extending his hand and bloodbending her again, this time being as gentle as possible as he lifted her from the floor. This time it almost hurt to watch her struggling in his grip. She kept her eyes shut defiantly, and he noticed a trail of blood leaking from her nose. He silently cursed himself for letting go of his temper.

He guided her back into the box, and right before he shut the door, she spoke again. 

“Please. If I have to stay here, I will. Just please give me water.”

Amon looked at her carefully. The trickle of blood above her lip was already drying up. The Avatar was a powerful being, but she was still human. Would she really make it two more days without water?

Amon almost wished she could see the remorse on his face.

“I can’t.”

With that he closed the box. He grimaced and stuck his hand in his hood to rub the back of his neck. His instincts were telling him to reopen the box and do _something_ , but he knew it wasn’t his place. Amon shook his head and forced himself towards the door, picking up the keys from the floor as he went.

He thought he heard her say something as he opened the door, but it was drowned out by the squeak of the hinges. Amon frowned and shut the door again before turning around.

“What?”

“Birth control,” she said. “A morning-after pill. I forgot to ask. Anything, just please, I don’t want to…”

She trailed off, but she didn’t have to say any more.

“That can be arranged,” he said.

Amon reopened the door and left. He was relieved to see that the hallway was still empty—not only did nobody overhear what happened, but he had been right in deciding to bloodbend. He straightened his jacket and strode off. He had one more delivery to make to her, and then she was none of his concern. He could spend the rest of the day conquering the city.

Maybe he couldn’t deny his emotions. But he still knew his priorities. The revolution was at hand, and when push came to shove, the Avatar would have to be destroyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I was laughing up until the end. I made myself sad. 
> 
> Don’t ask about Cheryl. I thought I was being funny. 
> 
> Before any of you asks if Korra is pregnant: no. No, because this is not one of those stories. If any higher power FORCED me to write such a monstrosity, I would end the story quickly with either Amon or Korra killing the fetus with their bare hands. This entire story is about HOW MUCH THIS DOESN’T WORK? THE TWO OF THEM HATE EACH OTHER!
> 
> Got it? Good. Now, onto the cuddling.
> 
> GIVE ME COMMENTS, I WRITE FASTER WHILE FEEDING ON THE TEARS OF MY READERS


	3. Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOD LORD JESUS I THOUGHT I’D NEVER BE DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER
> 
> I’m so sorry this is late. As you can see, it’s very, very long, and also very heartfelt. None of my friends believed them when I summarized this chapter as “Amorra cuddling” (it sounds stupid just writing it), but I did my best to create something believable while still staying (somewhat??) true to the characters. 
> 
> I PULLED AN ALL-NIGHTER TO FINISH THIS THING SO Y’ALL BETTER LIKE IT

Amon dropped off the morning-after pills a few minutes later, and then Korra was alone. As soon as she was sure he wasn’t coming back, Korra let herself panic.

She jumped to her feet and stood on her toes so she could reach the bars above her head. Amon’s bloodbending had left her in pain, but it had also made her desperate. She found the bar that was already covered in scorch marks and began to weld away at it furiously. Yesterday she had spent hours trying to make a dent, but nothing she did made it heat up enough. This time, Korra grit her teeth and forced as much chi into her flame as she could manage.

“Come on,” she grunted. “Gimme a blue flame…”

Her flame turned white, but it still wasn’t enough. Korra glared and focused harder. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple before the bar had even started to glow. After a few minutes, Korra’s legs were shaking from the exertion, and she was getting out of breath. A muscle spasmed in her shoulder—a side-effect from the bloodbending—and Korra’s flame began to sputter.

_He’s twice as strong as Tarrlok. And he didn’t even move—he did all that with his mind—_

Korra’s muscles gave out, and she stumbled into the wall before sliding down the floor, gasping for air. The bar was only glowing a dull red above her. It was better than the last few tries, but now it was obvious that this wouldn’t be a viable escape route. The melting point of the metal was just too high. Everything else had failed too. She was trapped. There was nothing else she could do but wait to be taken out to the rally.

_I’m going to die in this box or live to have my bending taken away._

It was a reality she had already considered, especially in the past few hours, but that didn’t make it any easier to face. Korra’s eyes stung lightly, but she was too dried up, too exhausted to cry. Everything hurt; every breath she took through her nose stung with dryness and the scent of iron. Her fingers were covered in soot and throbbing with heat—burned accidentally. Her stomach had been aching the past two days, but now it had twisted itself into a painful knot. Worst of all was her headache—it had been manageable before, but now it was threatening to split her skull in two. Korra closed her eyes, wishing the single light bulb hanging above the box would go out before she got a migraine.

When Korra finally opened her eyes, it was to look over at the new bottle of pills Amon had brought. She groaned as she remembered her reason for needing them in the first place. There was no point in putting it off.

Korra uncapped the bottle and shook a pill into her palm. There wasn’t much fluid left in her mouth—Korra had been swallowing the suppressants dry with the help of some saliva—but with her throat completely parched, she didn’t have much else to take it with. She had forced down the last round of suppressants by making herself cough up enough phlegm to take it with. With a grimace, Korra realized she would have to do the same thing again.

After hacking up enough fluid from her lungs, Korra gagged the pill down her throat. When it was done she curled against herself and clutched her head to stop the throbbing. She could feel her nose bleeding again, but she was too lazy to do anything but wipe it on the back of her hand. She doubted the pill would even stay down long, especially on an empty stomach, but it was better than not making the effort.

_Maybe I should have tried being nice to him._

Korra scowled and let her head fall back against the wall. She didn’t want to think about this, but the silence made it impossible not to think.

Of course she shouldn’t have been nice to him. She didn’t need to flatter that ass to deserve basic respect. He wouldn’t even bat an eye if she tried sucking up to him—from the looks of it, he just wanted her to be gone as soon as possible.

Yet another part of her couldn’t help but wonder. If he was so apathetic, then what was yesterday all about?

 _Hormones,_ she reminded herself. _Too many hormones at the worst possible time. That’s all that happened yesterday._

Then why did she care so much?

Korra balled her fists in frustration and put her head between her knees. That was just the thing. She was supposed to feel angry, maybe even violated. But she didn’t. Her only regret was who he was.

 _It’d be different if it was just “Amon,”_ she thought. _It’s totally different now that the guy under the mask is actually Tarrlok’s much scarier bloodbending brother._

Maybe that was it. Maybe she wanted the guy under the mask to be a decent person, or at least not a bloodbending sociopath. Was she trying to make herself like him to help herself feel better, or was this a gut feeling telling her to give him a chance…

Korra stopped there. If he had really cared, he would have given her food and water. That was the cold truth, and it wasn’t worth dwelling on. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about any of this.

Korra forced herself to sit up straight as she drew herself into a meditation stance. It made her headache worse, but at least she wasn’t thinking about _him_ anymore.

 _Didn’t Tenzin have some story about a guy who never ate?_ Korra thought vaguely. _Maybe meditating like him can help me survive this._

Either way it was worth at try. Korra closed her eyes and breathed.

_Dear Aang: I got the message, Amon’s the real bad guy. Already knew this. Now can you please give me an Avatar secret that’ll actually get me out of here?_

* * *

Republic City was his.

With Tarrlok and the Avatar out of the way, capturing the city was almost easy. The rest of the council was taken out easily, and Saikhan and Beifong were taken in soon after. Tenzin and his family had escaped, but he had a squad in pursuit. The only ones still at large were Sato’s daughter and the Avatar’s probending friends.

But that was no matter. Everything else had been going according to plan. The preparations for Thursday’s rally were near complete, defenses were set against the United Republic’s navy, and he removed the bending of hundreds of citizens’ every day.

The best part? The Avatar hadn’t distracted him since their last encounter. Two days had passed since he had been forced to reveal his bloodbending to her, but she had made no attempt to summon him since.

In fact, Amon was certain he wouldn’t have to face her again until Thursday’s rally. As he went to bed Wednesday night, it was almost as if he could finally put his conscience, and his thoughts of the Avatar, at bay.

His subconscious had other ideas.

He forgets when she enters his dream, or when it becomes lewd, but the next thing he knew he was overwhelmed with the sensation of _her_ , her hands and her lips moving tenderly down his abdomen, fingers kneading and tongue dragging, then her mouth wrapping around him and—

Amon bolted upright in bed with a gasp. The first thing he noticed was the pleasurable aftershock of his orgasm fading away, and the dampness in his briefs from where he had wet himself. He scowled and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Even in his dreams, he couldn’t get away from…

Amon paused and sniffed the air. Sure enough, the Avatar’s scent was there, filtering through the entire base just like the last two times. Even though they were on the opposite ends of the complex, he could still smell her faintly.

He swore and stood out of bed, walking to the bathroom to clean himself up. He worked mechanically, trying not to think too hard before it became impossible to go back to sleep. When he was done, he went back to his room and tossed his soiled briefs aside before going to fish out a fresh pair. He looked at a clock on the way and groaned; it was two thirty in the morning.

Amon put on his fresh briefs and sat back on his bed, his face in his hands. There was no need to pay the Avatar another visit. The last visit was a trap, and odds were she was just trying to make another last-minute effort to escape before today’s rally. Amon got back in his bed and tried to go back to sleep.

He tried everything. He practiced breathing exercises, he put the pillow over his head to block out the smell—he even tried counting koala-sheep—but nothing worked. The memory of her scent was branded into his sinuses, and it wasn’t going away.

Amon threw the pillow off his head and got out of bed with a growl. He walked over to his dresser and began to strap on his uniform. Amon finished by putting on his mask, but he didn’t bother with the make-up underneath. This was going to be a quick errand. However, he glanced at his vanity and picked up two make-up sponges, stuffing them into the holes of his mask in the place of cotton balls.

He didn’t bother taking the detour to the storage room. Amon headed straight for the prisons, thankful for the vacancy of the halls he rushed through.

When Amon arrived, there was only one guard posted in the prisons—the male omega assigned to the nightshift on the Avatar’s cell. He stood at attention when Amon arrived, but Amon waved him down.

“I need the keys,” Amon said. “Go stand at the end of the hall and wait.”

The guard handed over the keys, but hesitated before leaving. “Are you sure, sir?”

“Leave us.”

Even with a mask on, Amon could see the discomfort in the guard’s eyes.

“Sir…” the guard said carefully. “I understand that she’s the Avatar, but is it really necessary to exploit her like this?”

The words sent a knife of guilt through Amon’s gut, and he bristled. Amon grit his teeth and turned to put the key in the lock.

“Don’t assume you know anything about this,” Amon spat. “I said, _leave us._ ”

The guard finally bowed and dismissed himself, and Amon turned the key in the lock and entered the cell.

Like last time, there was no noise coming from the box. Amon strode over to it, not phased by the act. When he opened the door, he hid behind it and braced himself for a wave of fire to explode from the box.

Nothing happened.

Amon waited for the Avatar leap out and attack him, but she was nowhere to be seen. Amon frowned and peered around the door to look in the box. What he saw made his stomach turn. Korra was asleep, sprawled out on her side in an uncomfortable position. Her cheeks were gaunt, and her breath came in shallow huffs through chapped lips. The two bottles of pills were just out of reach of one of her outstretched hands. He looked behind her and cringed when he spotted a dried puddle of bile in the back corner, with a pill in the middle of the mess.

“Avatar.”

Korra didn’t stir. Amon raised an eyebrow and nudged her shoulder with his boot. Still nothing. Amon knelt down and tried to shake her awake, but all that did was make her brows crease together. Amon’s hand wavered before he put it to her forehead, and he grimaced. Her skin, though dry, was burning against his, and even here he could sense how slow her heart was beating. Too slow—too faint.

 _She can’t wake up,_ he realized. _That’s why she didn’t take the suppressants._

Amon stood up and went over to the wall, slamming his hand against the concrete in frustration.

_She’s dying of thirst. I should have listened._

Two separate wheels began spinning in his mind. The first weighed the consequences—he needed her alive for the rally, and awake enough to know when he was taking her bending, so all of his supporters could see her broken by his hand.

The other part wanted to take everything back.

Amon spared a glance at Korra before hanging his head. He had a responsibility to heal her, or at least bring her back to consciousness long enough to get through the rally. But he was afraid that if he gave into his emotions, he would do more than heal her; he would nurse her back to health, comfort her, give her back everything he knew she deserved. Her strength. Her dignity. Her freedom…

Amon slammed his hand in the concrete again and let out a deep breath.

_Remember your priorities…Amon._

Amon stood up straighter before going back and closing the box. With that, he forced himself to leave the cell.

“I’ll be back,” Amon told the guard as he passed him in the hall.

Amon returned a few minutes later with a five-gallon bucket full of water. The guard’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw it, but he did nothing to stop him. Amon passed him without a second glance, but the guard was fumbling through the pouch at the back of his belt.

“Sir, wait.”

Amon turned to see the guard offering him a pack of crackers.

“Here. I eat these to get through my shift, but I figure she needs them more than I do.”

Amon looked down at the crackers blankly. He was about to turn them down before he remembered the pill dry-heaved in the corner of the box. After a moment of consideration, Amon reached out and took them.

“Thank you.” Amon wasn’t sure because of the mask, but he thought the guard was smiling.

Amon reentered the cell, locked it behind himself, and set the bucket against the nearest wall. Next he took off his coat and draped it against the end of the cot in the corner of the room—he made a mental note to have that thing removed and burned when there was time. He took off his shoulder pads and undershirt until he was left bare-chested.

With that, he walked over to the box and opened it. The first thing he did was bend down to pocket the bottles of pills—his eyes darted over to the dried bile in the corner, and he was suddenly thankful for the sponges up his nose.

He finally knelt down and slid his hands under her. He initially staggered when he lifted her—she was heavier than she looked—but Amon grit his teeth and managed to pull her into his arms anyway. Korra’s breath hitched when her head rolled back, but aside from that, she didn’t stir.

 _Hang in there,_ he caught himself thinking. The thought made him pause and grit his teeth, but it was useless trying to numb his feelings now.

Amon sat against the wall next to the bucket, but hesitated as he wondered how to arrange themselves. Amon shifted awkwardly for a moment before parting his legs and cradling her in his lap, her head propped up against his knee.

_Now what?_

Amon hadn’t given much thought to this. He fidgeted for a moment before bending a bubble of water from the bucket and guiding it to Korra’s lips. No response. Amon knit his brow and decided to pry her mouth open and bend the water in. Korra didn’t swallow—instead she choked, her eyes bolting open as she coughed furiously. Amon swore and bent the water out of her lungs, and she immediately shuddered and collapsed back against his knee. Amon tossed the water back in the bucket before rubbing his temples anxiously.

Drinking wasn’t going to help her now, even if she could swallow. She needed a healer, or the hospital. She was so dry that he could barely feel her blood flow anymore—it dragged through her veins, too thick from dehydration to move like it should.

 _Blood._ Amon blinked and glanced back at the bucket. He couldn’t heal, but he might be able to put the water back in her veins. Amon took another tendril of water and held it against the inside of her wrist—any place with blood vessels close to the skin would work. He carefully worked the water against her skin, willing it to ease deeper. After a couple of minutes it was gone, bent back into her bloodstream.

Amon couldn’t stop his lips from curling into a soft smile.

He used the same technique on her other wrist, then the crooks of her elbows and under her arms. He knew it wasn’t enough; he would have to cover as much as her body as he could stand. He pulled down her collar so he could work at her jugular, but then froze.

The bite mark was still on the side of her neck. But it was far worse than the day he left it. It was scabbing, swollen, bruised black and yellow at the edges; he would’ve seen it from a mile away. He could even see several sections where the scabs had split, bled, then clotted again. His fingers hovered over a section that looked like it was becoming infected. He immediately drew water from the bucket and ran it over the mark, wishing again that he knew how to heal.

After a while, Amon relented and moved on to the rest of her neck. He hesitated before dragging the water up to her face, but he finally decided to focus the water on her temples. It wasn’t long before Korra’s eyes fluttered open and settled on him.

“It’s you.”

Amon did his best to avoid eye-contact while he worked, but he acknowledged her with a grunt. Korra stared back at him in confusion and put her hand against his, feeling the water moving against her skin. Her eyebrows lifted when she realized what he was doing.

“Why?”

"Drink this.” Rather than answer her, Amon bent another bubble of water to her lips. Korra drank it, but several seconds after swallowing it she gagged and retched the water back up. Amon grimaced as the water came back up on her shirt.

“Why can’t I keep it down…” she groaned. Amon bent the water out of her shirt and cast it aside. 

“Too much for your stomach right now. Here.” Amon formed a tendril of water into an icicle. “Try this instead. Can you hold it?”

Korra raised a shaky hand and took it from him. He made sure she could hold it steady in her mouth before he went back to what he was doing. He decided to roll up her trousers and start healing her feet and knees, mostly so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. There was no need to speak with her unless she instigated a conversation. And why would she? The last time he saw her, he bloodbent her after dooming her to dying of thirst.

Although, Amon couldn’t help but wonder why she wasn’t trying to attack him, or at least get away. He paused his healing for a moment to look at her. Korra let the icicle drop from her mouth as she frowned.

“What?” Her voice wasn’t as hoarse now that she had water. Amon broke from her gaze and looked down at her feet.

“I expected more resistance. After…”

Korra raised an eyebrow. “After the whole mating thing, or the whole bloodbending me and exposing your revolution as a lie?”

Amon was glad she couldn’t see the look on his face. “Right…all of the above, I suppose. Regardless, we’re not on good terms.”

Korra hummed in agreement. “Well, you’re being nice for once. And you’re kind of saving my life, so, don’t stop.”

Amon nodded once and continued bending the water into her legs. It was impossible to ignore the tension between them, and Amon was trying hard not to analyze what _kind_ of tension. His mind kept trying to invent excuses for him to leave. She needed a healer instead—he was the only waterbender around. It was his only option—was it really? His only option happened to involve him gently running his hands all over an omega in heat—an omega who happened to be his sworn enemy. Amon nearly stopped when he realized he had been carefully caressing every curve of her legs. He glanced up at her to find her watching him intently. Amon swallowed thickly and went back to what he was doing.

So maybe his feelings were getting in the way, and maybe he was straining from fighting them too hard. But was he afraid of his feelings because she was the enemy? Or because she was in heat and didn’t actually reciprocate his feelings, and she was only seventeen and didn’t belong in this kind of mess—

The water slipped from his grip and splashed against the floor, and Amon grit his teeth and turned his head away from her. A heavy silence hung between them without the slosh of the water to fill the air. For some reason, Korra didn’t seem to mind it. She finished her icicle and bent a new tendril of water into another one.

“You know,” she ventured, “The torso has a lot of blood vessels.”

Amon could practically feel the blood drain from his face. “That it does.”

Korra looked at him expectantly, and Amon held back a groan. _Great spirits why,_ he thought. _She can’t be serious. She can’t seriously want me to waterbend all over her chest._

When Amon didn’t budge, Korra sighed and started pulling her shirt off herself. It was all he could do to keep his blood from draining to particular areas.

“Er—it’s fine—keep your shirt on, I’ll work around it—”

By that point the shirt was over her shoulders. Korra’s bindings were still on—much to his relief—but the shirt was stuck on her head. Amon rolled his eyes and yanked it the rest of the way off for her, and Korra hissed and put a hand to her neck.

“Was trying to avoid that,” she grumbled.

She didn’t have to pull her hand away for him to see what she was covering. Amon grimaced and glanced away.

“My apologies,” he muttered before he could stop himself. He was surprised. It hardly seemed appropriate to dole out apologies to his enemy, but in this case, the bite was already inappropriate enough. Korra watched him for a few seconds before shaking her head.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ve had worse.”

Amon was about to bend another tendril of water over her, but he froze when he heard this. “You have…done this before?”

Korra’s eyes went wide before she corrected herself. “Been bitten. I mean, by Naga. It was a training accident when I was a kid, and you know—polar bear dog—so it almost took a chunk out of my arm. Poor girl had her tail between her legs until Katara patched me up. My armbands usually cover the scar.”

Korra lifted her right arm to show the jagged crescent shining below her elbow. Amon let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and nodded slowly.

“I see,” he said. He picked up the bubble of water again before chancing a glance at her neck. “Do you…want to heal it?”

“Hm?”

“Your neck.”

Korra instinctively ran her fingers across the mark—the chafe from her shirt was causing a part of it to bleed again—and shook her head. “No…it’s okay,” she decided, dropping her hand.

“Are you sure?” Amon asked.

“I’ll fix it later.”

Amon frowned. “You won’t have the chance,” he reminded her. It went without saying. No bending, no healing. She had less than twenty-four hours now.

Korra still refused to believe it. “I’ll fix it later,” she insisted. Amon sighed and shook his head.

“Sit up.”

Amon helped her into a sitting position, and from there he began to bend water into her back. Hopefully, he would be able to avoid bending into her chest if he worked the water deep enough into her back.

It was only then that he bothered to ask himself how much time had passed. It could have been anywhere from a few minutes to an hour, but he wouldn’t have known. He didn’t feel like he was wasting his time at all.

Maybe he wanted to be here all along.

Once Amon was satisfied with his work, he bent the leftover water back into the bucket and leaned back.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Korra shifted slightly; Amon tried and failed to ignore the muscles contouring in her back as she moved. “My chest still feels tight,” she answered. “And it burns when I breathe.”

Amon closed his eyes and fought back a sigh of annoyance. So it was inevitable.

“Alright,” he grumbled. “Lie back.”

He propped up his knee for her to lean back on, and Korra settled back against him. She bent herself another icicle and bit into it as she watched him lift up a bubble of his own water. He held the water above her, hesitating as he thought of a suitable place to begin.

“Are those makeup sponges?” Korra finally asked.

Amon blinked and remembered the sponges he had stuffed up his nose. She grinned and lifted a hand to pull the sponges out before Amon panicked and swatted her hand away.

“That’s irrelevant,” he snapped. “Keep still.”

Korra settled back and held still, but she was still smirking. Amon couldn’t help but feel warm inside at the sight of her smiling.

With that, Amon placed the water on her upper chest and began to bend. Korra closed her eyes and appeared to relax more, but Amon could feel her heart hammering. It was at this point that he remembered that she was still very much in heat. Amon hesitated for a moment before forcing himself to keep going.

 _Just a little longer. Almost done._ It hardly occurred to him that he wasn’t obligated to help her anymore, not when she was well enough to make it through to the rally.

Before long he could sense the water easing into her heart and lungs, so he began to move the water lower. But as soon as he made contact with the top of her bindings, he froze and let go of the water, yanking his hands away as he panicked.

Korra grabbed his wrist before he could push her away. “Don’t stop.”

Amon grit his teeth and avoided her gaze. “It hardly seems appropriate.”

“I still need it,” she pleaded. “The water, I mean…keep going.”

Amon didn’t move for a moment, but he eventually gave in. He lifted up a new bubble of water and held it against her abdomen. Korra’s eyes never left him while he worked, and it took all of his effort to not meet her gaze.

His hands were gentle as they passed over her stomach, but he was careful never to dip too far past her navel. He was thankful to be done quickly, so he could discard the water and move on to using his bloodbending to distribute the water evenly through her body.

He was immediately in awe of what he found. Her chi paths were surging with unbelievable power, even as they moved sluggishly. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. She had three bending chi paths flowing steadily, pulsing at the beat of her heart as if they could overflow any moment. He had seen many bender’s chi path’s when he took away bending, but he had never given much thought to how it pulsed like a person’s very spirit. Her chi was too unique to ignore. He could feel the raw power in her veins, but rather than be threatened, Amon couldn’t help but feel like he was holding the bones of high spirit. It was indescribable, humbling, and almost…beautiful.

He would have to destroy it all in a few hours.

Amon dropped his hands to his sides. Korra, who was about to bend herself another icicle, looked at him and frowned.

“You alright?” she asked.

Amon didn’t answer, too dazed to acknowledge her. After a moment of hesitation, Korra lifted a hand and moved to take out the sponges in his nose. When he didn’t react, Korra pulled them out and tossed them on the floor. Korra watched and waited for him to take the first breath, but Amon waited, afraid of what might happen if he let himself lose control. At last, he ran out of air and drew in a breath.

The scent went straight to his chest and broke the ice around his heart. This wasn’t lust. The electric charge pulling them together was different now. She was his omega, and she was wounded in a time of need. And now his instincts were crying out for him to hold back, protect her. It felt like a nail was splitting his heart and mind in two.

Before he realized what he was doing, Amon pulled Korra into a desperately tight hug. Korra stiffened in surprise for a moment before melting into the embrace, tucking her face in the crook of his neck. Amon found himself blinking back inexplicable tears.

 _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry._ His lips moved, but he still couldn’t force himself to say the words.

Korra eventually lifted a hand to try and take off his mask. Amon instinctively snatched her wrist to stop her, and Korra pulled away from him.

“What’s wrong?” she said, smirking lightly. “Didn’t put your makeup on today?”

Amon had no response to that. Korra frowned and glanced at the light hanging above her box. She raised a tendril of water from the bucket and flung it at the light, shattering the bulb. The room was plunged into darkness—the sound of ice and glass raining against the bottom of the box startled Amon for a moment—but he hardly had time to think before Korra was pushing off his mask and pressing her lips against his.

Amon didn’t know how to react. He had spent the past three days constantly reminding himself that she was only seventeen—and would remain so for the next four months (and nineteen days). But this moment, with her body flush against his, felt too right to deny.

Amon deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered his mask clattering against the floor, but he didn’t care.

When he felt her hands slide down against his zipper, however, Amon knew a line was being crossed. He pulled her hand away and broke the kiss, making her whine in protest.

“Come on,” she groaned. “It’s been three days since—”

“ _No_ ,” he said firmly. “Once was quite enough.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of suppressants. “Here.”

He could tell from the glossy look in her eyes that she had no intention of taking them. “Those make my stomach hurt.”

Amon rolled his eyes and pulled out the pack of crackers. Korra’s eyes widened, the glossy look evaporating instantly.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. Just take the damn pill.”

Amon dropped the pill into her palm. Korra stared at it suspiciously for a moment before taking a bubble of water and swallowing the two together. Amon opened the pack of crackers as soon as the pill was down, and Korra hurriedly pulled one out and shoved it in her mouth. Amon put the bottle of suppressants back in his pocket, but frowned when he felt the other bottle in his pocket.

“Also, was that the contraceptive you threw up in the box?” he asked.

Korra froze in mid-bite and looked at him anxiously. Amon immediately pulled out the other bottle of pills and shook out a capsule for her. He could see her visibly relax as soon as she had taken the pill.

By this point Amon’s work was done—Korra was rehydrated and had taken the suppressant and contraceptive. But for some reason, he couldn’t find the will to make himself leave. Korra seemed to sense this, and she shifted to lean against him as she munched on the crackers. After a while, she took her free hand and began to feel his face—the slope of his nose, the arch of his eyebrows, his sideburns, and his lips—he had to fight a smile when she lingered there. He knew she was doing her best to draw a picture of him in her mind. He couldn’t let her see his real face, but he was more than happy with this.

“Who are you, really?” Korra murmured. “Amon’s not a Water Tribe name. What’s your real name?”

Amon sighed. “I can’t tell you.” That name was dead. That life was over. He was Amon now, and that was what mattered. Korra grumbled and continued to run her fingers across his face.

“You’re probably just really ugly,” Korra said eventually, “And that’s why you wear the mask.”

Amon grinned. “Fair assumption. I suppose a comparison might help. What do you think of Tarrlok?”

“Tarrlok?” Korra hummed as she took another bite of a cracker. “Meh. I dunno. Too old.”

“I’m three years his senior.”

Korra nearly choked on her cracker. “…Oh.”

“Indeed. Are you glad you took those suppressants now?”

He felt a puff of air brush his chest as she snorted. “Yeah…maybe a bit,” she admitted. “I never would have guessed you were _that_ old.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Amon sensed Korra picking up another cracker. “Alright, so Tarrlok,” she said. “Do you two look alike?”

“I suppose,” Amon said. He paused, realizing that he hadn’t given it much thought after being reunited with his brother. “We were set on very different paths after I left home. Perhaps we were more alike…when we were boys…”

Amon swallowed thickly. This should be wrong, confiding in the Avatar. And yet he felt uninhibited, as if the absence of his mask was like a weight lifted off his old memories. Holding her there in his arms, he was ready to tell her just about anything.

Korra’s head fell against his shoulder. “What was it like? Growing up with him as your father?”

Amon closed his eyes. It took a minute before he knew how to answer. “He was a terrible man. When he found out we were waterbenders, we became tools of revenge against the Avatar…not his children. If I’d run away sooner, maybe I wouldn’t have this curse. People like him are the source of suffering in this world—people like him, and bending. It’s a curse, too much power for mortals to wield.”

When Korra was silent, Amon took a deep breath and tried again. “You haven’t seen the world like I have. I saw how bending corrupted people after I ran away—I had already seen it with my father, and it almost happened to me. It happened to my own brother. Bending is a curse. I bear my curse as a means of cleansing that from others.”

Korra was quiet for another moment before she spoke.

“You’re just doing what he wants,” she whispered. “You’re getting revenge against the Avatar.”

Amon’s heart stopped. “No. It’s…it’s not the same. This isn’t about you, it’s about equality.”

“This is everything to do with me,” she said just as softly. “Bending is my world. It’s all I’ve ever known. I don’t know how I’ll live if I lose it.”

It was Amon’s turn to fall silent. After a moment, Korra pulled a stream of water from the bucket and held the bubble before them.

“Look,” she said. “It’s too dark to see, but you can still feel it. Even if you’re not the one holding it, it’s…it’s still a part of you. You grew up in the Water Tribe. You felt the snow, even before you knew you could bend, didn’t you?” He could feel her offering the bubble to him, and he took it in his grip, holding it out before them. “This is our home. It’s a part of who we are. Why would you take that away from anyone?”

There it was again, the nail driving his heart and mind in two. He hated bending—not the people—he hated the Avatar—but not her, never her. Not after this.

Amon didn’t think as he tossed the water back into the bucket and kissed her. This kiss wasn’t like the others. It was slow, sweet, and passionate, their lips brushing together and their breaths mingling. Korra wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her closer. The scent in the air had already shifted, and he knew the suppressants were already working.

After a few minutes he could feel her breaths becoming shakier, and their kisses became wet and mingled with the taste of salt. Amon pulled back and took her by the shoulders as she sobbed.

“Please…” she breathed, “Don’t take my bending…”

Amon felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. “Korra…I—”

“You can fake it. Say I was too powerful or something. Or just let me keep one element, let me keep water, just that little bit of home—you can’t take it away, _please_ …”

Amon was silent, but he pulled her into a hug and let her cry anyway. He knew he had no choice. This was for the better. He hated the bending, not the people. He hated what the Avatar stood for but could never hate her—why did it have to be her?

He held her until her sobs died down, and then a little longer after that. The stillness hung between them in an almost surreal manner. Finally, Amon took a deep breath and felt for his mask on the floor. His fingers brushed against it, and he took it and tied it on. He started to lift Korra off of him, but she grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“Don’t go yet.”

Even with his mask on, he didn’t have the strength to protest. He relaxed and closed his eyes, allowing himself to exist in the moment while it still lasted. He felt as her breathing and heartbeat slowed down, and her chi paths ebbed down to a sleepy flow. Sluggish for her—it would have been full power for anyone else. If there were gods, there must have been one within her.

After what felt like eons—still not long enough—Amon rose to his feet, stepping past the bucket and over to the box. A dim orange light flickered to life behind him. Amon turned around to see Korra cradling a small flame in her palm. He couldn’t even be angered by the fire when he saw the pain, fear, and loneliness in her eyes. It broke his heart that he had to leave, but he forced himself to turn away.

“Drink now if you’re still thirsty,” he said, his voice empty. “I need to take the bucket with me.”

He made his way to the door of the box and waited as Korra drank some more. When she was done, he bent some water from the bucket and used it to clean out the bottom of the box, gathering up the shattered bits of the lightbulb and the patch of bile. He bent it all into a far corner of the room before turning back to her.

“You need to go back in now.”

Korra narrowed her eyes, and the flame in her hand flared brighter for a moment. Amon sighed.

“Please,” he said, walking over to the cot and picking up his undershirt and jacket. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Korra glanced between him and the box uncertainly. Finally, she relented, setting her jaw as she stepped back into the box. Amon tried not to look at her as he shut the door behind her.

He knew he should form some sort of apology, but nothing appropriate—to him _and_ Amon, the revolution—came to mind. He finally sighed and shook his head, donning his clothes before heading for the crack of light beneath the cell door.

Amon’s head was hanging so low that he almost didn’t notice the guard standing expectantly, swaying from foot to foot as if he was smiling beneath his mask. Amon raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

The guard rolled from his heels to his toes. “You two are happy together.”

Amon was in so much shock that he almost forgot to answer. “Pardon? Our sworn enemy? Did you forget that I am taking her bending tomorrow?”

“It’s the solution,” the guard said obviously. “You’re doing her a favor, just like with all the other benders. I’m sure it’ll all work out between you once you’ve cleansed her at the rally.”

Amon felt sick to his stomach. He shook his head as he pushed past the guard. “None of that,” he muttered. “Too simple.” Amon kept talking to himself as he walked away, but the last thing the guard heard was “she’s just a girl…”

Amon barely remembered the walk back to his quarters. Before all this, the Avatar was merely an obstacle, a nuisance to be dealt with, a factor in his plan. But now…

He couldn’t treat her like another number in his equation. An Avatar was a symbol that factored into his plans perfectly. But this girl didn’t match his numbers. Did he forget something along the way?

As soon as he made it back to his room, he made his way over to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of liquor. He was going to need the help sleeping through the rest of the night.

* * *

 

Korra was curled against the bottom of the box, her eyes wide and staring at nothing. She was too tired to meditate, but her mind was racing too much for her to sleep. With everything that had happened between them, Korra had no idea how to feel about Amon anymore. In the past three days, he’d mated with her, bloodbent her, and then nursed her back to health while they cuddled.

It was almost easier when he had just given her nightmares.

Her own feelings aside, Korra could be certain of one thing: Amon had a soft side, even if it was unpredictable. And maybe, just maybe, there would be a way to exploit it at the rally tomorrow.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking. As human as he might be, Korra couldn’t rely on his feelings on her. Odds were she would have to take matters into her own hands.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I figured it out. I ship them platonically. But, also in a kinky non-con sort of way. And there is no in-between.
> 
> No wonder this is complicated. 
> 
> The morning-after pill technically wouldn’t exist in a 1920s-era Avatarverse, but since there’s no way in hell I’d let Korra birth Amon’s bloodbending demonspawn, I’m making it a thing. 
> 
> Also I can’t believe I put a male omega in this story. Not to kink-shame or anything, but like, HE CAN GET PREGNANT? THAT POOR MAN’S ASS SELF-LUBRICATES?? 
> 
> I hate being invested in things that disgust me. 
> 
> Speaking of which, I had a nightmare that every member of my family was suddenly interested in reading this fanfic. I think I might work a little harder on covering my tracks now…
> 
> GIVE ME COMMENTS, I WRITE FASTER WHILE FEEDING ON THE TEARS OF MY READERS


	4. Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, the final chapter~! What do we get today? Teh cuddels?? Hte sMutT??!? ASMAI COMMING TO SAV TEH DAY???!!???!?
> 
> Haha…yeah…well…
> 
> You’re all gonna kill me. That is, if you consider yourself a hardcore Noarra shipper (I may write fanfiction for these two, but I am not a part of your posse). Since I’m trying to stick to what I believe is realistic given the previous events, this might piss some of you off. 
> 
> Random thought: I still can’t believe I added an Equalist named Cheryl. I know people in the Avatar universe are supposed to have Asian names; that’s the joke. It’s terrible, and I love it. Cheryl. Like, is she a suburban mom of three kids, fighting in an anti-bending revolution on the side? “Hey kids, how was school? Oh that’s right you didn’t go today—the schools shut down since I helped Amon throw the city into anarchy yesterday—do you want soup for dinner?” I love Cheryl. 
> 
> Then again, I kind of regret giving her that name, since she kind of turns into a really serious character, but I CAN’T TAKE ANY OF IT SERIOUSLY BECAUSE. CHERYL. THIS WAS A MISTAKE.
> 
> Also, sorry this took so long, several sections of this went through a few drafts. I’m still not completely satisfied with Korra’s two sections at the end, but OH WELL, I’M READY TO BE DONE WITH THIS, I’VE BEEN SITTING ON IT FOR TOO LONG
> 
> Anyway…enjoy! In other words, SUFFER (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

Today was the day.

Amon walked down the halls of the Equalist prison, flanked by his Lieutenant and a large squad of chi blockers. The time had come to escort Korra to the rally, and Amon was going to take every precaution necessary to make sure she didn’t escape.

However, just at they reached the outside of the Avatar’s cell, he froze. Once again, Amon could smell her—the scent of her heat was faint, but nonetheless present. Amon glanced at the chi blockers behind him. They could smell it too—he could see from the discomfort in their eyes. Amon hesitated for a moment, conflicted on how to proceed. In the end, his protective instincts won.

“Wait here,” he ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sir, are you sure you don’t need any help?” one of the chi blockers asked.

Amon bristled—he had no idea what state he was going to find Korra in, but regardless, he had no intention of letting anyone else have access to her. “No. I can handle this. Lieutenant, the scent blocker?”

The Lieutenant was fighting to hide his disapproval as he pulled out a small tub of cream and passed it to Amon. It was the scent blocker they had found in the Avatar’s room on Air Temple Island—it the reason nobody had known she was an omega, until now. Amon nodded and put the scent blocker in his pocket before opening the door to the cell. The smell of her heat pushed out, but faintly—enough that Amon could go in without stuffing his nose.

“Sir?” one of the chi blockers asked. “I may be out of line saying this, but…I think I speak for all of us when I say I’m concerned…about how friendly you’ve gotten with the Avatar.”

The other chi blockers glanced at each other uneasily, but Amon knew there was a consensus. Amon wasn’t sure if he should be angry or ashamed, so instead, he revealed nothing.

“I assure you,” he said quietly, “This is nothing but a huge mistake.”

Amon entered the cell and slammed it shut behind him, gritting his teeth in frustration. He paused for a moment to let himself calm down before opening Korra’s box, carefully. He was almost surprised when she didn’t attack him.

Instead, he found Korra lying in the box on her back, her legs stretched out and kicked up against the side of the box. It was dark with the lightbulb shattered, but his eyes adjusted enough for him to tell that she was staring straight up, looking melancholy.

“What are you doing?”

Korra blinked, but didn’t look at him. “Trying to get comfortable. It’s not exactly easy to stretch out in this thing.”

“I meant your heat. What happened to your suppressants?”

Korra shrugged her shoulders. “It’s ending. It’ll be gone in a few hours, so I didn’t see the point in taking them.”

Amon pushed the door open wider and leaned on the frame of the box, caging her in with his body. “I know the drill, Korra. You want something.”

Korra looked up when Amon said her name, examining him for a moment. “Did you mean it? Is this all just some big mistake to you?”

Amon rolled his eyes, but a small part of him regretted that she heard him say that. “You can’t honestly be happy about what happened between us.”

“I’m still deciding.” Korra let her feet down and pulled herself into a sitting position. “But you can’t just pretend like last night never happened.”

Amon grit his teeth. “Last night was necessary to—”

“—Save my life, I know. But you didn’t have to stay afterwards.”

Amon avoided looking at her. Korra leaned forward to try and catch his gaze. “I don’t want to like you any more than you want to like me, but you’re making it hard.”

“If you actually managed to find redeeming qualities about me, please, feel free to share,” Amon sighed. Korra grinned widely, and her shoulders shook with a small laugh. Amon forced a frown on his face to keep from mirroring her expression.

“I’d be the first to agree that you’re short on redeeming qualities,” Korra teased. “Maybe you’re just fun to talk to.”

Amon paused for a beat. “I’m not fun.”

Korra bit back another laugh. “You’re definitely interesting.”

“Interesting or not, I don’t care about you. If I did, I would have brought you food and water sooner than I did. You shouldn’t harbor feelings for me.”

Korra gasped overdramatically. “You’re so right! You must not care at all. Or maybe you’re just afraid of what your friends will say if you’re nice to your girlfriend—”

Amon slammed his hand against the box loudly, silencing her. “Don’t call yourself that!” he snapped.

“Too soon? Sorry, I thought three dates was enough to make us an item.”

Amon huffed and turned his head away. This was getting out of hand.

“Remember when I used to intimidate you?”

Korra looked at him carefully before frowning. “You still do.”

“Good.”

Amon handed her the scent-blocker and slammed the door shut. “This conversation is over. Goodbye, Korra.”

“Hey! I wasn’t done, I…wait, is this my scent blocker?”

Amon stopped. “Does it matter?”

“Yes! Only the White Lotus knows how to make this, so either there’s a rat in their ranks or you were—what were you doing at Air Temple Island?”

She didn’t know about his conquer of the city. Half of him wanted to boast about his victory, but the other half couldn’t stand being the bearer of bad news to her. Amon bit back his words and continued toward the door.

“That is irrelevant. How long does it take to apply?”

There was a brief pause. “Two minutes, maybe less?”

“Then you have two minutes. Put that on and take a suppressant. Don’t try to skip it—I’ll know.”

With that, Amon turned and left. He heard Korra stagger to her feet and slam on the walls of the box, but by the time she was calling his name, he had already closed the door of the cell behind him. Amon closed his eyes and grit his teeth, avoiding the gazes of the chi-blockers watching him.

“Everything settled?” the Lieutenant asked. He glanced at Amon carefully, as if checking to see if Korra had disheveled his clothes.

“Yes,” Amon muttered. “Count for two minutes, and then we go in.”

“Counting.”

They all stood in silence, not looking at each other. Amon spent the time breathing deeply, fighting to clear his mind of what had just happened. The Lieutenant finally gave him a nod and entered the cell, followed by the rest of the chi blockers. Amon was the last to follow them in. He stayed at the back wall and folded his arms, waiting to see if he would need to interfere.

As he suspected, it wasn’t necessary. There was an explosion of flames as soon as the box opened, illuminating the room long enough for Amon to see Korra’s face twisted into a feral snarl. Flashes of fire and chunks of earth flew around the room for the next ten seconds, but that was all it took for the Equalists to block her chi and force her onto her knees, her head hanging.

When she lifted her head again, it was to look at him. Her eyes pieced his, filled with anger, hurt, and regret. Amon held her gaze, but he barred off all reactions. When the two chi blockers holding her arms wrenched them behind her back and cuffed her wrists together in platinum, Amon turned away. His job here was done, and he didn’t have to stay with her any longer than he needed to.

“You know what to do,” Amon said, heading for the door. He made the mistake of glancing back one last time as he opened the door to leave—the chi blockers were fastening a ceramic muzzle around Korra’s nose and mouth, and Korra was staring after him, eyes wide and full of too many emotions for him to count. He turned away and closed the door behind himself, trying to burn the image out of his head.

He knew this day had been coming, but it didn’t make it any easier.

* * *

There were only a few people that had ever known about Korra’s omega status: the leaders of the White Lotus, Katara, Tenzin, and her parents. Before this week, Korra hardly had to think about it. It wasn’t something that needed mentioning, so nobody else knew, not even her friends. She didn’t need anyone judging her.

Except now, for the first time since she was a little girl, more people knew: Amon, his Lieutenant, and the handful of Equalists that had been standing in her cell, including the two chi blockers sitting on either side of her in the back of this truck. Korra couldn’t bring herself to look at either of them. She could sense that both were omegas, and hardly a threat. Of course not; few omegas ever appeared threatening, and now that’s exactly how they saw her: docile, yielding, and timid. It made Korra’s blood burn, because she knew it wasn’t true, and hardly true about other omegas—even Asami appeared gentle, only to turn around and destroy Hiroshi and the Lieutenant in three moves. Korra felt like an idiot for ever thinking she was weak, for ever buying into the stereotypes given to her own kind—

“I’m happy for you, by the way.”

Korra blinked a few times before turning to the chi blocker on her right. She couldn’t see his face behind his mask, but she could make out his eyes, twinkling behind the glow of his goggles.

“Um.” Korra wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “For what?”

“You and Amon,” he said. “You seem good for each other.”

Korra felt the chi blocker on her left shift uncomfortably in her seat. Korra was at a loss for words, torn between disbelief and mortification.

“Right.” Korra paused, still processing his words. “Sorry, what?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that—sorry, we were the two guards posted outside your cell. Well, not at the same time, we took turns—anyway, I couldn’t help but notice that you and Amon got along very well on his last visit.”

Korra’s cheeks flared up, and she hunched her shoulders so the chi blocker wouldn’t see her face. “Sure. It was fine.”

“I can tell you’re still anxious about it,” he said. “Don’t worry. It’ll all work itself out after the rally.”

“I’m sure the Avatar has no obligation to feel this way,” the other chi blocker, a woman, said suddenly. “You may have been outside the cell the last time, Yang, but you weren’t there the first two times. Leave her be.”

Korra looked at her in surprise, and the other chi blocker hung his head. Korra turned to the woman and nodded slightly, as if to thank her. She only stared back, eyes unreadable.

Korra gazed down at the floor. After much silence, she asked, “What’s going to happen to me after the rally?”

The chi blocker on her right looked to the woman in confusion. She took a deep breath. “Nobody is quite sure anymore,” she said. “Originally, we were just going to kick you out of the rally and leave you to restart your life. However, due to…recent events, the plan has changed a few times. The most current plan involved helping you disappear in the Earth Kingdom, but after last night, nobody is sure of what will happen.”

“You call that _helping_ me?” Korra uttered. “Banishing me to the Earth Kingdom?”

“At least you won’t live in ridicule.”

Korra pursed her lips and turned away, not wanting to admit that she had a point. Korra didn’t know what she was going to do if Amon took her bending. She had no life outside of her bending. It was too much to think about. Korra pushed those thoughts away and swallowed thickly.

She needed a plan. Even if there was no point in trying, she needed some sliver of hope, at the very least to keep those thoughts away. Korra thought frantically, but the only thing her mind kept going back to was how Amon acted when she saw him last. He was almost back to how he was before her heat, but something was off, as if he wasn’t completely committed to taking her bending yet. Did she still have a chance to change his mind?

There was only one way to find out, and Korra had the beginnings of an idea formulating in her mind. The only problem was that she was going to need help…

After several minutes of the truck driving on, Korra turned back to the chi blocker on her left.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

The woman stared at her warily through her luminescent goggles before answering. “Cheryl.”

“Cheryl,” Korra repeated. “I have a favor to ask you.”

Cheryl glared. “I won’t do anything that will aid in your escape.”

“It’s not about that. I think I’ve already given up on escaping. It’s something else. One last chance to make things right.”

Cheryl stared at her carefully for a good minute, judging her silently and weighing her options. Several emotions passed through her eyes—distrust, ferocity, bitterness, pity. At last, she turned her body to face Korra and leaned in slightly.

“I’m listening.”

* * *

As soon as the truck had stopped, the back doors opened, and the two chi blockers with her took her by the arms and dragged her out of the back. Nothing could have prepared Korra for what she saw. They were at the Probending Arena—if she could call it that anymore. Equalist banners were covering the sides of the towers, and though they were at the side of the building, she could hear the whirr of Hiroshi’s mechatanks out towards the front of the arena. Korra’s eyes widened, and she turned her head to the sky just in time to see one of Amon’s airships pass over the arena.

Korra instinctively fought to twist away from the chi blockers escorting her, but they just held on tighter and jabbed a pressure point on her back. Korra stiffened in pain and bared her teeth.

“What did you do to the arena?” she snarled.

They didn’t answer her. Korra was led to one of the side-doors to the arena and ushered through, meeting more Equalists on the other side. They guided her through the back halls of the building while Korra’s mind raced.

_“I’m saving you for last.”_

Amon wouldn’t change his mind now. She had only seen one building, but Korra was sure that the rest of the city matched its colors. The Equalists must have taken the city within the past few days, and Korra was going to be the final step in solidifying his victory. Just as he promised. Korra felt sick to her stomach the more she thought about it. Where were her friends? Were Tenzin and his family alright? How many people were killed trying to defend the city? How could Amon hold her last night and pretend everything was fine when he had the city, and all of those lives on his conscience?

Korra’s hands were shaking. At last, she was led down a narrow hallway and down a short flight of stairs into a pitch-black room. Korra was forced down on her knees one last time, and someone’s shadow moved in front of her.

“About time I got the chance to do this,” the Lieutenant said. His kali-sticks sparked with electricity, briefly illuminating the room, before he rammed them into her stomach. Korra screamed until her throat went raw, and then the already dark room faded into nothing.

When Korra came to again, her hands were bound behind her back, and a cloth had been tied between her teeth to keep her quiet. Korra jerked her hands, only to find that they were chained firmly to the floor behind her. She still couldn’t see anything, but she could hear the muffled din of many voices from somewhere above her. Korra’s heart skipped a few beats, and her breathing instantly picked up. It was time.

Some servos whirred loudly a few feet in front of Korra, making her jump. There was momentarily enough light for her to see several silhouettes on a platform rise a few feet in front of her. The voices in the crowd rose to a deafening applause. Korra’s breath shook as she strained to pull out of the chains, and struggled to summon some fire for what could be her last time. Sparks danced around her fingertips, but nothing more. For a moment she wondered if she would be sick, and if it would be able to get past the cloth in her mouth.

“Thank you all for joining me on this historic occasion!” Amon’s voice rang out, silencing the cheers from the audience. Korra stopped trying to twist out of her chains and listened. “When I was a boy, a firebender struck down my entire family and left me scarred. That tragic event began my quest to equalize the world.”

Korra’s mouth twisted into a scowl around the cloth. She couldn’t believe that she had almost trusted him, yet here he was, lying to a city he had taken by force.

“Today we witness several landmarks in the globalization of our revolution,” Amon continued. “The first of which you have all been waiting patiently for. I give you, Avatar Korra!”

The crowd applauded even louder than before. Korra forgot to breathe until the floor under her jerked and began to move upward. A slab of the ceiling above her moved out of the way to make room for her ascent.

As Korra rose onto the stage, she looked around frantically and noticed two chi blockers flanking her. The one on her left looked down at her and nodded subtly, and Korra felt herself relax slightly. It was the female chi blocker from the truck. From the look in her eyes, it seemed like the plan was still on. If it worked, it might be enough to save her bending, or at the very least enough to get revenge.

When Korra was fully on the stage, just a few feet behind where Amon stood, she wanted to be sick all over again. The stands of the arena were packed, and cameras flashed from all points. Even the floor where the Pro Bending ring used to stand had been leveled out for people to stand in. It felt like she had just come to Republic City, and now so many of its citizens, enough to crowd the stadium, were bent on her destruction. What had she done wrong?

“As you all know, the Avatar has ruled over our world for thousands of years. They have always held a disproportionate amount of power over us non-benders…”

Korra barely paid attention to his words anymore as she looked for a way out. There was no more time, and she was out of options. There was nothing left she could do…except one last thing.

Korra took a deep breath, and then turned her head to nod once at the Equalist on her left. The chi blocker’s gaze hardened. Korra bit the cloth in her mouth and looked away as the woman reached over and pulled Korra’s collar down, exposing the bite mark for all to see.

At first there was nothing. Then, a couple murmurs. Before long, the entire audience was gasping and cameras were flashing, enough of a commotion that Amon had to stop his speech and turn around to see for himself…

* * *

_Well, shit._

Korra’s collar was down. Her bite mark, which was black, red, blue and yellow enough for the whole audience to see, was put on proud display. The Avatar had fixed him with an unflinching glare, and so had the chi blocker to her left. Was that the woman he had posted outside the Avatar’s cell for the morning and evening shifts—Cheryl, was it?

Amon cursed mentally. The two of them were in on this scheme—Korra must have convinced the guard to take her side at one point. Of course, the woman must have thought he was tormenting Korra after standing outside the cell for their first two meetings! Well, he did hurt her at one point—not intentionally of course, and it was more complicated than that—

Amon blinked once to clear his head—he needed a solution, quickly. If they kept looking at him like this, there would be no mistaking for who marked the Avatar’s neck. He could have the chi blocker removed—it would cause a scene. No. He had to calm the crowd. Amon forced a smile behind his mask and turned back to face the audience, waving a hand dismissively.

“Everybody calm down,” Amon said smoothly. “Why would the Avatar’s trysts concern us nonbenders? If you must know, this was a mere accident. The Equalist responsible is no longer a part of our cause, I can assure you. Now, as I was saying…”

Amon picked up where he left off on his speech, and the crowd quickly simmered down to where it was before. Amon paced back and forth as he spoke, only so he could steal a few glances in Korra’s direction. The chi blocker seemed stiff, but otherwise fine—he would definitely have a word with her later—but Korra was devastated. The hurt, anger, and betrayal in her eyes cut him so deep that he could only bear a quick glance at her before turning away. He was almost done with his speech, and then he would only have to deal with her for a few more moments.

“My goal was never to defeat the Avatar,” Amon said, “My goal was to _destroy_ her—erase her image from history, so the world is no longer governed by an arbitrarily picked demigod.” He paused to let the crowd cheer, and he couldn’t help but let himself smile slightly. “And now, that dream will be a reality!”

This was it. Amon turned and walked over to Korra, and the two chi blockers flanking her stepped back. He could see Korra glancing around frantically, testing her chains, and watching him with legitimate _fear_ —none of it registered. He blocked it all off, moving to stand behind her. He seized the back of her neck and reached out with his bending.

There it was again—three chi paths, surging with a quiet power and beauty, and pulsing as if it was her very spirit—the most spectacular thing he had encountered in his thirty-eight years, and he was going to destroy it. And worst of all was the look she was giving him, as if he had violated a deep trust that they had established—but when did that ever happen? This was inevitable from the start. Amon tore his eyes away from hers and steeled himself.

He brought his thumb down.

* * *

It was far worse than being bloodbent. All of her muscles were rigid, straining against his bending, but now it felt like a dark spirit was clawing its way through her veins, tearing everything apart along the way. Everything burned, to the point where she couldn’t tell if the fire in her throat was his bending or her screams.

When he finally let go, she fell against the stage and stayed there. She couldn’t move. She could hardly breathe. Distantly, she registered the roar of the crowd, the random flashes of cameras across the stands, but it was dwarfed next to the pain in her limbs and the hollow ache in her chest. There were only two thoughts she could focus on: _he did it;_ her bending was gone forever, she was nothing, worthless now—and _he did it;_ he actually did it, he took her bending, after everything they had gone through together, despite everything between them, he still did it—

Somebody uncuffed her and removed the cloth from her mouth, and then two pairs of hands were helping her to her feet. Amon stood before her, as if expecting her to try and fight. Korra bared her teeth and clenched a trembling fist, straining to fuel some fire into it but coming up with nothing. It was gone. The chi blockers let go of her, and her feet gave out, making her collapse on the stage. The audience laughed and cheered, and tears burned in her eyes. Amon didn’t react.

“Her bending is gone,” Amon announced. “The Avatar is no more!” The applause swelled into whistles and cheers, and Amon nodded once to the chi blockers flanking her before turning to face the audience again. Korra was picked up off of the stage and guided to the side of it. The deafening applause followed her out, and Korra couldn’t help but let a few tears escape her eyes.

_Amon has the city, and I’m not the Avatar anymore. It’s over._

Korra had already been guided down the steps off the back of the stage before the applause had even died down. The first thing that brought Korra out of her reverie was Cheryl’s words.

“I did what you wanted with your collar,” she muttered to her. “I’m probably in deep shit, but oh well. Amon had to pay for what he did.”

Korra was still deciding if Amon had deserved that, but Korra was hardly thinking about it. She was just realizing how big of a mistake she had made with revealing the mark on her neck. Originally she hadn’t cared about what the audience would have thought—all that mattered was Amon’s reaction. But now that he had brushed it off, everyone was undoubtedly paying attention to her, which was just spectacular, since everyone had probably assumed she had been raped in prison, on top of having her bending taken away in public. Disappearing to the Earth Kingdom didn’t sound so bad anymore.

Maybe part of her had wanted him to see the mark and remember the time they spent together. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized it was futile from the beginning. He didn’t care, otherwise he wouldn’t have taken her bending. Korra was about to be guided through a door to the back hallways when Amon spoke again.

“Now that the Avatar has been destroyed, it’s time for our next event: the end of the Air Nation!”

Korra froze, her head whipping back to look at the stage in horror. The two Equalists escorting her tried to pull her forward, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Tenzin?” she murmured.

“Let’s go,” Cheryl said, trying to drag Korra to the door. Korra still refused to move.

“What you are about to see is just the beginning,” Amon said fiercely, and for the first time since her capture, his voice once again chilled her to the core. “Soon, every nation will be cleansed, just like the airbenders you see before you!”

“The kids,” Korra gasped. “No—stop!”

Korra strained to pull herself from the chi blockers grip, but they were stronger than her now. They grabbed her arms and began to drag her forcibly to the door.

“Let me go!” Korra roared, kicking her leg out. A gust of air billowed out from her kick, and although it didn’t hit anything, it was enough of a surprise to make all three of them freeze.

“Um. What?” the male chi blocker uttered.

Korra used their distraction to twist away from them, and then she threw several haphazard gusts of air in their directions. The air was impossible to dodge, and too forceful to withstand, so the two of them flew back into the wall and slumped down against it, stunned. Korra glanced down at her hands in disbelief for a moment, but there was no time to question it. Korra spotted a ring of keys on one of the chi blocker’s belts and yanked it off, and then she sprinted back to the stage.

Korra didn’t even think; as soon as she got back on stage, she threw a blast of air at the first Equalist she saw and sent him flying off into the crowd. The stadium rang with screams of panic, and all of the heads on stage, including Amon’s, turned on her.

“Impossible,” Amon breathed.

Tenzin and the kids were tied to four poles on what looked like another rising platform. All four of them were watching her with wide eyes, and her heart twinged. It had been a long time since she had seen a friendly face. She wasn’t going to let them down now.

Korra didn’t hesitate as she threw more air at the oncoming chi blockers. They had been taught to avoid earth, fire, and water, but air was too rare to need to know any defenses against, not to mention it was near impossible to dodge. As Korra blasted the Equalists off the stage, the crowd at the base of the stage began to clear out of the arena. Before long, Amon was the last one on stage, and Korra’s fists shook as she faced him.

“This is a minor inconvenience!” he bellowed. “I’ll just take your bending agai—”

Korra threw out both of her hands and pushed the air in front of her, and Amon staggered back. Even he couldn’t hold against her air for too long, and he was pushed off of the stage. A few more Equalists were climbing back onto the stage, and Korra hurriedly blew them back before running to Tenzin. She pulled the gag out of his mouth and started to jam different keys into the lock on his cuffs.

“Excellent bending,” Tenzin said with a proud smile. “Nothing like I taught you.” Despite everything, Korra almost laughed.

“We’ll fix that later,” she said. She found the right key and jammed it into the lock. “Hold them off!”

The lock popped open, and Tenzin rushed forward to push back the oncoming Equalists. Korra clutched onto the same key desperately as she freed Jinora, then Ikki, then Meelo. They were running out of time, but Korra still couldn’t stop the three of them from rushing her with a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re alive!” Ikki gushed.

“Where were you the past few days?” Jinora asked.

“Are you alright?” Meelo asked. “You smell kinda funny.”

Korra faltered at the last question. For a moment, she was afraid her scent masker was wearing off, but she relaxed when she realized she probably didn’t smell very pleasant anyway.

“No showers in Equalist prisons,” she explained, hoping to skirt the issue. “Come on, let’s go!”

Tenzin seemed to have pushed back all of the chi blockers for the moment, so the five of them left the stage and ran to the back door. The door led to a back hallway, and Korra made a split-second decision to turn right.

They were almost at the end of the hall when the door to the arena burst open, revealing Amon. Korra stopped running and narrowed her eyes.

“Go!” Korra told Tenzin, “I’ll hold him off!”

Tenzin hesitated, but one glance at his children was all he needed to listen. The four of them took off and turned the corner, leaving Korra and Amon alone in the hallway.

“I believe I have unfinished business with you,” he said lowly.

Korra bared her teeth. “Looks like you’ll actually have to fight for it this time.”

Amon growled and sprinted toward her; Korra spun around and began to run as fast as she could. Korra waited until she turned a random corner and found a set of doors, and she ducked inside before Amon caught up to see her. It was dark, but Korra knew her way around the practice rooms. Korra turned to one of the shelves by the door and used her airbending to jump on top of it.

Amon burst into the room a second later, and then stood still. The only sound was of the doors swinging shut behind him. Korra held her breath as he slowly walked forward, not once turning his head to look around. Korra was exhausted, and everything ached; she just wanted this to be over. If she did this right, she might be able to end things quickly.

Korra jumped down from the shelf, and Amon stopped. Amon had barely turned around before Korra blasted him with a gust of air strong enough to knock him over. Amon skidded across the floor, and Korra balled her fists and closed in on him.

“How could you do this to me?” Korra shouted. She threw another blast of air, then another, and another—Amon was sent ricocheting around the practice room. “Did last night mean nothing to you? I trusted you—I can’t believe I _trusted_ you, I—”

Amon lifted a hand desperately, and Korra froze in mid-punch under his bloodbending grip. Amon staggered to his feet and began to drag her over to him. Korra panicked. He was going to take her airbending, and then it would be all over—her eyes flicked over to the door, and she strained to break out of his grip, her eyes stinging with tears from the effort. Korra managed to move her arms—Amon’s eyes widened behind his mask, and his outstretched hand clenched into a fist.

It was too painful. Her body was already on the verge of giving out, but feeling her own blood crush down against her, grating against her ravaged chi-paths, was her breaking point. A scream tore out of her throat, and a few tears escaped from her eyes.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, Amon let go of her, dropping her to her hands and knees. Korra had just enough energy left to look up and see his hands trembling, hear his breath coming in ragged gasps through his mask.

* * *

It had been different when thousands of eyes were on him, and he could ignore her agony for the sake of the cause. But now it was just the two of them, and seeing her suffering at his hands was too much. Amon let go of her as if pulling away from a hot stove. Korra fell to her hands and knees, barely able to hold herself up, and Amon could feel that despite her strong front, she was just a shell of who she used to be. He had admired her strength; he thought that when he took it away, his feelings would fade. He was wrong. He had ruined her, and it was his fault.

Tears stung his eyes on their own accord, and before he could stop himself, everything he had been holding back was tumbling past his mouth.

“I can’t do this, I can’t—I’m sorry,” he gasped. Korra stared up at him, stunned. Amon staggered over to her, still sputtering apologies, and dropped to his knees before her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m truly so sorry…”

There was no telling what the look in her eyes meant. The hurt was still there, but it almost seemed like she believed him. Amon reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace, and then he started crying into her shoulder. It took a moment, but Korra eventually relaxed in his arms.

“…Noatak,” he admitted. “My name was Noatak. That’s who you fell for.”

Korra pulled away so she could see his face. She looked at him as if he was a different man—maybe because he acted like one around her. She lifted her hand and began to push his mask up to his forehead. Amon thought it was so she could see his face, but he realized that it was too dark to see much, and he still had his make-up on. Korra leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, and Amon stiffened.

“Stop, stop,” he said, pushing her back. “You’re still in heat.”

“I’m not,” she said. “It’s worn off by now.”

Amon had no way of telling—her scent blocker made sure he couldn’t smell any changes from her. When she kissed him again, he returned it tentatively, but it felt wrong. He had no right to be doing this. Tears fell down his cheeks and mixed with hers, and his shoulders shook.

“I wish I could love you,” Amon said, straining to make his voice level. “I wish I could put this all behind me and spend my life with you. But I have another destiny.”

Korra took his face in her hands and looked at him seriously. “You don’t have to do this. You can walk out right now, come with me, find a way to give me my bending back—”

Amon looked away, pained. “I—I can’t—”

“You _can_.”

“No, I _can’t_. I don’t know how…”

Korra’s eyes widened in disbelief. Before she could react, the door to the practice room swung open, and Amon shoved his mask back down his face. Amon’s Lieutenant walked in, and as soon as he saw them he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he sighed. “This is still a thing? Did you even take her airbending yet?”

Amon rose to his feet stiffly, but he was otherwise silent. He saw Korra glance between the two of them anxiously before her eyes lit up.

“Lieutenant, sir, you have to listen to me,” Korra said, rising to her feet unsteadily. “Amon isn’t who he says he is. He’s a waterbender, and he somehow uses bloodbending to take people’s bending away.”

Amon didn’t move an inch. She was going to try and expose his lies—so he would walk away from the revolution? His affection quickly bubbled down into anger, but he stayed silent.

The Lieutenant’s gaze hardened. “Why are you doing this, Avatar? You know you’ve already lost.”

“You have to believe me!” Korra pleaded. “He’s a waterbender—I would have died last night if it weren’t for his bending!”

“I merely gave her some water to drink,” Amon dismissed. “I was making sure she would last until the rally.”

“His family wasn’t killed by a firebender,” Korra went on. “He doesn’t even have a scar—it’s fake! And his family—his brother is Councilman Tarrlok, and his father is Yakone!”

At this, the Lieutenant’s eyes flashed. He turned to Amon and waited for his response. Amon stared back silently. He hadn’t expected to see this response from the Lieutenant. He had assumed the Lieutenant suspected nothing of his special treatment of his brother—he was hardly treated better than other prisoners, objectively speaking—and he had hardly spoken to him. But regardless, Amon sensed that Tarrlok knew who he was. If it was obvious to Tarrlok, could it be that the Lieutenant suspected something as well?

As Amon struggle to respond, the Lieutenant looked back at Korra worriedly. “Amon? Is this true?”

Amon stayed silent, still struggling for a proper answer. The Lieutenant glared and pulled out his kali-sticks.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve treated Tarrlok after we captured him,” he said through his teeth. “He’s fed three times a day, you jailed him in the temple attic away from other prisoners—I even heard you’ve visit him several times! Is it true? Is he your brother?”

Amon hesitated, glancing between Korra and the Lieutenant uncertainly. There was no lying his way out of this now. “…That was another time, and I was a different person.”

The Lieutenant’s stance faltered for a moment. He glanced over at Korra before clutching his kali-sticks.

“Tell me what she said isn’t true,” the Lieutenant demanded. “Say it!”

Amon couldn’t. Not with Korra there. Amon glared at her before letting out a deep breath and turning away from them. Amon heard the crunch of glass, and he glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the Lieutenant stepping off of his smashed goggles.

“I dedicated my life to you!” he snarled, spinning his kali-sticks. “You traitor!”

The Lieutenant rushed toward Amon, ready to attack, but it was useless. Amon snapped. He spun around and stretched out an arm, and the Lieutenant went rigid and became suspended in mid-air. Amon heard Korra gasp, but he paid no attention. He curled his fingers harshly, and then squeezed it into a fist before throwing the Lieutenant into a cluster of wooden planks propped up against the wall. The Lieutenant fell to the ground limply before becoming buried in the planks. Amon spun on Korra furiously.

“Look what you made me do!” he seethed.

Korra took a few steps back, horrified. “Y-you could have lied—”

“Not to him,” Amon spat. He noticed one of the Lieutenant’s kali sticks by his feet and kicked it furiously. “Not to you!”

Korra was giving him a look a pure terror now. Amon turned to her, realizing now that if there could ever be a relationship between them, there would have to be a winner. He had to win. Her bending would have to be completely gone. Amon began to lift his hand to bloodbend her, but Korra was faster—she kicked out and blasted him into a table—hard. Amon cringed and opened his eyes just in time to see her sprint out of the room, the doors swinging shut behind her. Amon clenched his teeth and stood up, bolting after her.

“KORRA!”

* * *

Korra ran faster when she heard him call her name. She had no idea what to think anymore. Had Amon just killed his Lieutenant? There was no way of telling, but the way he’d twisted his limbs, and how hard he was thrown into the wall, and how still he was against the ground…was Amon willing to kill in order to keep his secrets?

She heard him call her name again, and now she had reached a split in the hall—to the right was a dead end leading to a window, but the left continued on. Korra turned left and kept going as fast as she could.

_If this is ever going to work between us, he needs to end the Equalist movement. He needs to…to…_

Korra stopped and gasped for air. Since when did she want things to work out between them? Since when was that ever a good idea—he was going to take her bending again, even after apologizing! And most importantly, would Amon ever willingly end his revolution?

Amon finally rounded the corner into the hallway and stood in the intersection. He let out a deep breath and slumped his shoulders.

“Korra,” he said calmly, “I don’t want to fight you.”

Korra turned around and looked at him carefully. Who was she dealing with right now—Amon or Noatak? And which one was going to hurt her?

It was then Korra realized that, mask or no mask, there was no telling what kind of man Amon would be at any given moment. She glanced at the window behind him, and a plan came into her head. Korra’s brows knitted together in grief as she made up her mind.

Amon took a step forward, and Korra bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from backing away.

“Did you kill him?” she asked.

Amon shifted between feet. “I can’t be sure,” he admitted. “He felt alive when I let go of him.”

“Did you _mean_ to kill him?”

Amon didn’t respond to that. Korra swallowed thickly, and she couldn’t stop herself from backing away.

“You need to understand,” Amon pleaded. “The revolution must go on…but I don’t want to lose you too.”

Korra looked at him sadly and shook her head. “Pick one.”

Amon’s eyes widened behind his mask. “I…”

“I don’t want to do this, but I can’t trust you the way you are now,” Korra said, her voice wavering on the edge of breaking. “You’re either with me or against me. Pick one.”

Amon looked away and ran his hand against the back of his hood. She had no idea why she was willing to give him a chance—he had taken her bending, killed a man to keep his secrets, and he had lied to everyone, maybe even her. He didn’t deserve her mercy, and yet, she still couldn’t make herself end this.

Amon finally shook his head, and Korra felt her muscles tense in preparation to fight. “I’m sorry. I can’t choose. I care about both too much.”

He didn’t break eye contact with her, and she knew he was being sincere. Korra dipped her head and closed her eyes, if only so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“Alright then. You get neither.”

Korra threw a gust of air at him, enough to send him tumbling into a wall. She hurled a couple more, and had him backed up underneath the window when he finally gave in and used his bloodbending.

She knew Amon wasn’t putting all of his strength into it. He was afraid. Amon staggered to his feet and closed down on his grip. He took a step towards her, and his bloodbending shifted to try and force her to her knees. A part of her registered that he was likely going to take her airbending away if she didn’t stop him now, and her heart pounded faster against the force of his bloodbending.

_No. This is where it ends._

Korra clenched her fists and arched her back—it was her chi against his, and despite everything, Korra somehow managed to find enough strength to fight back. First her arms were free. Then her back straightened. She could see his eyes widening behind the mask, but it didn’t stop her. Then she was raising her leg and snapping it forward, shoving a harsh gust of wind into Amon’s chest and knocking him into the window. The sound of glass shattering filled the hall, and then he was gone.

Korra almost didn’t believe it. She blinked a few times before stumbling over to the broken window. She saw ripples settling out on the water next to the arena, and scattered spectators from the stadium rushed over to see the commotion. A white mask rose to the surface, and the crowd turned on her, roaring in anger.

But Korra wasn’t paying attention. She was watching the water smooth out, anxiously waiting for a change.

Finally, a figure splashed out of the bay, propelled by a massive waterspout. The crowd gasped—Amon had exposed himself as a waterbender, and better yet, the fake scar had washed off. The crowd was calling him out, and Amon stared down at them in horror, watching his revolution crumble before him.

Korra didn’t register the victory. Her eyes were wide, fixated on his face. It was the first time she had seen _him_ , and it pained her that it had to be from so far away. The picture she painted in her mind by tracing his face in the dark had done him no justice.

Amon—Noatak, looked back at her with misery carved in his features. She couldn’t see the tears in his eyes from this distance, but she knew they were there. Korra still wasn’t sure where they stood—friends, enemies, lovers—it didn’t matter. There was a shared pain between them over what could have been, but was not meant to be.

Finally, with one last glance at his former followers, Amon’s lips curled into a snarl, and he spun off of the waterspout and dove into the bay. The jet of water that streaked behind the arena was too fast for anyone to chase. He was long gone before Korra blinked twice. It was over.

The crowd slowly turned in on itself and resumed the shocked exchanges. Several people stared up at Korra expectantly, and it occurred to her that she should be doing something to settle the aftermath. There was so much that had to be done now that Amon was gone. Her first priority was finding Tenzin, and making sure he and the kids were okay.

Korra turned away from the window and started to walk down the hall slowly. She was exhausted. Her steps quickly became misplaced and irregular, and it wasn’t long before she was staggering against a wall and sliding down against it. She closed her eyes, assuring herself that this was just a five-minute break. As she drifted to sleep, Korra couldn’t help herself from thinking about his face, about how his name felt on her tongue.

“Noatak.”

The tears slipped down her cheeks, and Korra let herself cry.

* * *

Korra had no idea how long she let herself sleep, but by the time she opened her eyes again, the sky outside the window had been softened by dusk. She heard a familiar voice call out her name before she could fall back asleep. Was this what had woken her up?

Korra’s eyes drifted shut again, too exhausted to care. She heard footsteps echo at the end of the hallway before growing louder and picking up speed.

“Korra!”

Korra opened her eyes just in time to see Tenzin scooping her up into his arms. She didn’t move, unsure of how to react at first, before realizing that _it was over_ —she could let herself relax now. Korra closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the smell of Tenzin’s wool robe ground her in the moment. _It’s over. He’s gone._

“Did he hurt you?” Tenzin pressed. “Did he take your airbending?”

Korra looked down at her palm and instinctively tried to summon a flame, but nothing happened. She swallowed back tears and spun her palm, this time creating a small funnel of air that spiraled out of her hand and dissipated a few feet away.

“No,” she said, her voice wavering. “At least I have that.”

Tenzin sighed in relief, but he said nothing. He was aware that this was a small victory compared to what else she had lost.

“Korra,” he said carefully, “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but…I was beneath the stage when your bending was being taken, and I heard what Amon said about the…mark beneath your collar.”

Korra stiffened and looked away. She had toyed around with how to discuss her interactions with Amon, but she hadn’t decided on what to tell Tenzin and her friends.

“I’ve also heard other people from the rally discussing it,” Tenzin continued. “Needless to say, this particular piece of information will be all over the news—”

“Do they know?” Korra blurted. “About me being…”

Tenzin shook his head, and Korra relaxed. “No,” he confirmed. “Thankfully, there have been no assumptions about your status. They are far more curious about who left the mark in the first place.”

Korra was breathing easier after that. Her secret was safe for now—she would still have to worry about the handful of Equalists who knew she was an omega—but in the meantime, nobody else would have to know.

She could only hope they would keep that a secret, along with the knowledge of her and Amon’s entanglement. With all luck, nobody would ever find out about this fiasco.

“Will it hurt my public image if I don’t say who left the mark?” Korra asked.

Tenzin watched her worriedly before answering. “It won’t matter after today. You exposed Amon and drove him off—the city is hailing you as a hero. However, I do not recommend leaving that story up to the public’s interpretation.”

Korra pulled away from Tenzin and didn’t look at him. “I don’t care what they say. I just want to put this behind me.”

Tenzin watched her with concern before prying again. “Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Korra stood up and looked out the window. “I need something to eat. I also need more scent masker—the Equalists stole my last container.”

Tenzin sighed, but he didn’t pry. “I’ll let the White Lotus know right away. It might take a day or two to receive a new shipment.”

Korra scowled. “Great. Looks like I’ll be trapped in my room until then. I can’t let my friends smell me out.”

“You’re going to have to tell them eventually.”

Korra clenched her fists and closed her eyes. Telling her friends she was an omega was one of the last things she wanted to worry about now. Tenzin put a hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her.

“I’m sure if you lay low, get rest, and take plenty of showers, you’ll be alright,” he assured.

Korra shrugged his hand off and started walking back down the hall. “A shower sounds great,” she muttered. “I’ll do that as soon as we get back to the island.”

She could feel Tenzin’s worried gaze prying into the back of her head as she walked, but he finally started after her. “We’ll go back to the Air Temple as soon as the United Forces clears it out. You’ve missed a lot. The Equalists were using it as a secondary headquarters for the past few days, but it shouldn’t take long before we can settle back in. In the meantime, you might need to say a few words to the press. Can you do that?”

She couldn’t, really. She needed to be alone, she needed to grieve, but if she was going to keep her secrets, she didn’t have a choice. She gave a terse nod and continued walking, but she was once again stopped by Tenzin’s hand on her shoulder.

“Korra?” he said. “I’m always here if you want to talk. Alright?”

Korra shrugged off his hand and kept walking.

* * *

As soon as he fled, Amon went straight to Air Temple Island and into the attic where he kept his brother. Tarrlok looked back at him impassively, as if he had been expecting him to arrive unmasked at some point.

“Noatak.”

The sound of his long lost brother addressing him by his old name caught him off-guard, and he paused for a moment. Amon pulled back his hood and moved to stand in front of the bars of Tarrlok’s cell.

“It’s over,” Amon said. “The revolution is compromised. I’m sorry for what I had to do to you.”

Tarrlok’s eyes filled with grief. “You were doing what you thought was right. Regardless, it was a path our father set you on. I regret not going with you when we were boys.”

Tarrlok’s last sentence filled him with remorse, but then Amon found himself lingering on the words about their father. He still hadn’t decided if he wanted to blame his father or blame himself for his current situation. The image of Korra, staring back at him from the broken window, entered his mind unexpectedly, and Amon felt his heart clench. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and promptly unlocked Tarrlok’s cell, holding the door open.

“There’s not much time,” Amon explained. “We can leave now, start over together.” Between the pain and longing in Tarrlok’s eyes, Amon sensed a fraction of uncertainty, so he tried again. “I won’t go alone if I don’t have to. Please. You’re all I have left in the world.”

They departed with few words after that. They set off on a boat that Amon had stolen on his way to the Air Temple, and they picked an imaginary point on the horizon and started driving. Amon wasn’t sure where they would go, too distracted by the days events to decide. Tarrlok remained silent the entire time, as did he.

The late autumn’s wind blew through his hair as he drove, and for a brief moment, the chill reminded him of home. The thought brought a smile to his lips, and before long, he was thinking of her. Nearly every train of thought circled back to her. Before long, Amon found himself suffering in silence, drowning in anger, regret, grief, and plenty of other emotions he had yet to identify. Amon glanced back at his brother and wondered if it was too soon to begin confiding in each other, but his pain quickly overrode his misgivings. He needed to speak to somebody about this.

Amon cleared his throat. “Did you hear about the Avatar?” he began casually.

Tarrlok sighed heavily before speaking. “That you captured her?”

So he didn’t know. Amon clenched his hands on the steering wheel and grit his teeth before deciding to go on.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Amon said carefully. “First of all, it appears the Avatar is an omega.”

“I know.”

Amon blinked in surprise and glanced back at his brother. “Do you now?”

Tarrlok grimaced. “I had someone search her belongings for blackmail several weeks ago, in case I needed some extra leverage,” he admitted bitterly. “I’m guessing the scent masker I found wore off after she couldn’t use it for a few days. In hindsight, I’m thankful I never brought it up with her, since all it took for her to try and kill me was arresting her friends.”

Amon forced back a bitter smile by biting the inside of his cheek. As amusing at their situation might have seemed, it was by no means admirable on either of their parts.

“Well, we found out rather quickly,” Amon said. He paused as he decided how to go about the next part of the story. “She went into heat the morning after we found her.”

Tarrlok didn’t seem fazed. “How unlucky. I hope you sealed the box off.”

Amon grimaced. “I…may have underestimated myself in my attempt to do so.”

Amon waited for Tarrlok to respond, but was only met with a prolonged silence. Amon shrugged it off and kept talking.

“I believe it was an accident on both of our parts. However…I kept returning to maintain the situation, and in doing so I got to know her better. I’m not entirely certain how I would classify these feelings.”

“Instincts?” Tarrlok offered. “Primal urges?”

Amon smiled a bit. “No. I’d like to think I have more restraint than that. As attractive as she is, I think I was drawn in by her personality. It seems we have a lot in common. For a while, I considered if I would have grown up with her disposition, if not for our father.”

Amon thought he understood Tarrlok’s silence and decided to keep speaking. “I understand that a relationship was impossible, but I know my feelings were reciprocated to a certain degree. I can’t stop wondering about what could have been, Tarrlok. We’re an unanswered question that can never be resolved. Not because I’ll never know now, but because in every timeline I imagine, I can’t conceive…would it have happened?”

Once again, Amon was met with silence, but he was too immersed in his own confession to mind. It was true that his mind kept imagining scenarios where he could be with Korra. It was only now that those fantasies were being tainted with guilt. Now that the revolution was over, he was realizing that all of his efforts to make it succeed had been futile. In the end, taking her bending was pointless, and he destroyed her life for nothing.

“Perhaps destiny brought us together to open my eyes,” Amon mused. “How unfair…she was sent to open my eyes, and all I did was ruin her. If only I had seen it sooner.”

Maybe it wasn’t too late. The thought entered his head suddenly, and then it became overwhelming—he could turn the boat around, go back and find her again. He would take any punishment given to him by the city and by her; it didn’t matter what anyone said, or even what _she_ said. He only wanted to see her face, and apologize for what he had done to her. His mind went off on a tangent, envisioning a fantasy of the two of them together, except this time it was real, a hopeful prediction of what might come if he earned her forgiveness. All he had to do was turn around.

He had nothing left to lose. Amon moved to turn the steering wheel, but he never got the chance. The last thing he remembered was the crackle of an electric glove, and then everything turned white.

* * *

Korra followed Tenzin’s advice and spent the next couple of days by herself. Most of her time went towards eating, sleeping, showering, rehydrating, and of course, avoiding all social interaction with those who didn’t know she was an omega. Korra had been able to reunite with Mako, Bolin, and Asami before returning to the island, but Korra had been so anxious about what they thought of the mark on her neck that she was hardly able to speak. As lonely as she felt, she needed to be alone.

When she wasn’t sleeping, it was everything she could do to not think of him. At times she would wonder if he was coming back—the thought sickened her, thrilled her, and terrified her all at once. But a part of her already knew the truth—he wouldn’t come back, and even if he did, she would refuse to see him. She couldn’t, not after everything he had done, not after choosing the revolution over her. But that didn’t make it any easier. When she was alone, the mark on the side of her neck would throb, and she could curl against herself and cry until it hurt even more. She was a shell of who she had used to be, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the man who had taken it all away.

As soon as Korra received more of her scent masker from the White Lotus, she got on the first ship to the Southern Water Tribe. Korra almost wished she could take the journey alone, but Mako, Bolin, Asami, and Tenzin and his family insisted on accompanying her. Even Chief Beifong decided to come with them, since she was just as desperate as Korra to see if Katara could heal their bending.

Korra kept to herself for as much as she could on the journey, preferring to let herself be comforted by Naga rather than anyone else. With every day that passed, the mark on her neck became more and more aggravated—after several days it was starting to leak puss, and on the last day of the trip she began to feel ill. Korra refused to say anything about it, instead keeping the mark hidden beneath her collar at all times.

So of course, Katara noticed something was wrong as soon as Korra arrived in the South Pole. Katara exchanged a few words with Tenzin while Korra greeted her parents, and then Katara ushered her into the healing hut.

“You have a fever,” Katara said almost immediately. “How long have you been sick?”

“It’s nothing,” Korra dismissed. “Just a cold. Can we get started?”

Katara wasn’t having any of it. However, she gestured to the center of the healing mat. Korra sat down with her legs crossed and shoulders slumped as Katara went to fetch a pitcher of water.

“I’ll need you to take off your shirt,” Katara said, “Is that alright?”

Korra stiffened and looked at Katara nervously. She ground her jaw before answering. “Fine.”

Katara set down the pitcher of water and watched as Korra pulled her shirt over her head. Korra flinched when the fabric pulled over her neck, and then it was visible—the indents of teeth were still obvious, but the edges of the bite were tinged red, green, and yellow. The entire side of her neck was swelling, and red streaks lanced out from the site of the infection. Katara set the pitcher down next to Korra with a sigh and sat beside her.

“You went into heat when you were with the Equalists, didn’t you?”

Korra was silent. Katara leaned forward and took a closer look at the bite.

“Bites don’t usually get infected if they were reciprocated,” Katara murmured. “And this is particularly aggravated.”

Korra looked away, heat rising to her face.

“You know you can tell me anything if—”

“It wasn’t like that,” Korra mumbled.

Katara angled her head to try and look at Korra’s face. “Like what?”

“I wasn’t forced.”

“Korra, I know it seems easy to blame yourself in heat, but—”

“I wasn’t forced into anything. I had my bending. It was mutual. Besides…we both regretted it in the end.”

Katara watched her carefully before going on. “Who was it?”

Korra hesitated before shaking her head.

“You don’t know?”

“No, I…” Korra sighed. “Just heal it. Please.”

Katara watched her for another moment before bending the water from the pitcher and against her neck. Korra closed her eyes, expecting the healing to be soothing, but as soon as the water moved, a sharp pain seared through the mark. Korra cried out and pulled away, digging her nails into her knees.

“Ah! That hurts!”

“These things usually do.”

Korra looked at Katara in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Katara lowered the water back in the pitcher and threaded her fingers together. “These marks are tied heavily into our emotional state,” Katara explained. “Because of this, if the relationship between you and your partner is unhealthy, it will often manifest in an infected mark.”

Korra’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh.” She wrung her hands and stared down at her lap. “I didn’t know.”

“You can blame me for never teaching you. It was something I hoped you would never have to experience.”

Korra looked back up at Katara worriedly. “It’s not permanent, is it? Will it ever go away?”

Katara smiled hopefully. “It will, if you are willing to move on.”

Even with her bending gone and her heart hurting, Korra knew she couldn’t spend the rest of her life wondering. Amon was gone—even if he were to reappear in her life, she wanted nothing to do with him, not after what he had done. Yet even after everything, she knew that she’d be able to put it behind her. Korra would move on. And someday, after she had to courage to tell the world about her status, she would tell her friends the truth about Amon as well.

But not today. Today, Korra would move on, and she would do it alone.

Korra took a deep breath and nodded once.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we all know how it goes from here. Katara can’t give Korra her bending back, Korra reconnects with her past lives and gets her bending by herself, she eventually gets over Amon and dates Mako, and then dumps him for Asami, yadyadya. Actually, I used to have the past lives scene in the original outline, except Aang showed up and assured her that this was just a fanfic, none of this was canon, and it would all be behind her after the chapter ended. “We all do things we regret, Korra. There’s plenty of fanfiction of me getting pegged by Katara and the Gaang. Don’t worry, it’s not canon. Well, except the parts about Katara. ANYWAY HERE’S YOUR BENDING BYE” (I’m not joking, I was seriously going to do this; I had finished most of the chapter before I changed my mind). 
> 
> And then I got attached to the story, and I wanted to do it justice. So here we are. 
> 
> Anyway, can you spot the Noarra shipper? Yup—it’s that loser chi-blocker who oozes lube from his asshole. Here’s to all of you who thought these two would go off happily ever after and make babies together. 
> 
> Let’s face it guys. Every good Amorra AU is doomed from the start, and this one is no exception. Sorry if I upset anybody, but I’ll assure you, I was in a great deal of pain writing many of these scenes. In the end, I’m really pleased about what I learned from this story. I was able to discover what it was that does and doesn’t work in Korra and Amon’s dynamic, and now I’ll be able to take what I learned and directly apply it to original stories that I want to write in the future. And, perhaps some more fanfiction in the shortrun. 
> 
> Oh, hell. Yes, keep an eye out for me with fanfiction in the future. I can guarantee that I have far more sinful ideas than this one stuffed in my archives (about three of them, to be exact) (Ok, but actually, I’m a massive Korrasami shipper, idek what I’m still doing here???). They are so terribly sinful that I would need you guys pestering me if you really want to read them. Please know what you’re getting yourself into, though. I’m more than happy to explore the non-con element of their relationship, and while I’m fantastic at writing smut, I’m even better at writing smut that makes you feel terrible for liking it. You’ve been warned.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys. Smootsmoot signing out. 
> 
> ..................................
> 
> :^) I’m going to regret posting this in years to come, aren’t I


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